Indentured Servitude
by draigonfire
Summary: COMPLETED It started out simple enough—poor Ginny Weasley has to work as a maid for the rich, loathsome Slytherin. But sometimes the most unexpected things happen. . .DG with a bit of RHr, HHr
1. Much Ado About Something

Indentured Servitude  
  
Chapter 1. Much Ado About Something  
  
It was a cool summer day, optimal for outside frolicking, and Ron Weasley was not happy. "Of all people!" he declared hotly, for what seemed to be the tenth time.  
  
"Ron," Hermione warned from her position beside him, taking his hand. He quieted immediately, withering under the gentle but firm reprimand of her voice, and squeezed her slender fingers.  
  
"Sorry," he murmured, bringing his lips to her cool temple. "But," he added, "I still don't like it." Hermione let out a condoning sigh, resting her head in the nook of his shoulder.  
  
Harry shifted uncomfortably.  
  
Ginny Weasley, soon-to-be sixth year, strode across the room and faced her elder brother pensively, hands on her hips as she thought over her response. "I don't exactly like this arrangement either," she finally replied, "but it pays quite a lot, and you know that we need the money."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "But them?" he cried. "What makes you think they won't work you to exhaustion and then fire you, or worse, refuse to pay you?" Ginny sighed, opening her mouth to speak. "And how can you stand to be around Lucius Malfoy after all he did to you?" he spat out, cutting her off.  
  
"Ron," she said calmly, "first of all, we signed a contract, Narcissa Malfoy and I. I am there for the entire summer term, and they are obligated to pay me." Ron shrunk into the couch grudgingly. "And secondly," she continued, "Lucius Malfoy isn't home this summer."  
  
"But his bloody prat of a son will be."  
  
"I realized that I'd have to work with him before I took the job," she reminded.  
  
"Work for him, Ginny, not with him," he said stubbornly.  
  
Ginny waved her hands in frustration. "Ron!" she shouted.  
  
Hermione lifted her head from Ron to look Ginny in the eye. "You know Gin, he has point" she said softly.  
  
"You see?" Ron supplied with a knowing smile.  
  
Ginny turned. "Harry?"  
  
He shrugged helplessly. "I can't really say anything in defense of Malfoy," he said, and then added humorously, "not that I'd want to either."  
  
"I just feel that it's a waste," Ron said, "that your summer should be spoiled this way. You deserve to have fun before we go back to Hogwarts."  
  
"Yes well, many things don't turn out the way we expected," Harry muttered, shooting a glance toward Ron and Hermione.  
  
Ginny followed his stare. "Ron, Hermione, would you give me and Harry a few moments alone before I leave?" she asked abruptly.  
  
Speechless, Hermione's eyes widened, darting from Ginny to Harry, and then back to Ginny. "Of course," Ron said grandly, slinging his arm around the shorter girl and drawing her out the room.  
  
"But Ron," Hermione interjected.  
  
The door clicked close.  
  
Ginny faced Harry squarely, silence overcoming the room as she eyed the boy she had once believed to love with a strange degree of satisfaction that she could now properly use the term "once". "Harry."  
  
"Ginny." He sat down on the sofa.  
  
Again, silence.  
  
"Does it bother you?"  
  
A flicker of sadness appeared in his beautiful green eyes, almost regret. "Why does it matter?" he asked quietly.  
  
"It does," Ginny replied gently, "because you're my friend, Harry. I want you to be happy. And while you believe that you will never be happy without Hermione, it helps to talk, doesn't it?" She sat down beside him and grasped his arm, her touch light and soothing. "Does it bother you?" she asked again.  
  
He gazed at her with a rueful smile. "It does bother me," he admitted in a little voice. "More than I want it to, because I had her. And I lost her. And I hate to say this, but she seems so happy with Ron that I think this time, I've lost her forever." He sighed, directing his stare to his cuticles now. "I know there's nothing I can do about it, but it still hurts to see them together." He glanced up at her again, the sadness now more apparent than ever behind his glasses. "I miss her, Ginny, I really do."  
  
"You still have feelings for her."  
  
"I love her."  
  
"Do you think at this age, we can really understand what love is?"  
  
"Of course," Harry scoffed. "Well, until you find someone like Hermione was to me, then no, I don't think you can understand. But I don't doubt that I was in love with Hermione Granger. I don't doubt for a moment."  
  
~*~  
  
"Why'd you do that?" Hermione demanded.  
  
Ron looked at her perplexedly. "Do what?"  
  
"Leave them alone."  
  
"Why shouldn't we?"  
  
"I don't want to see Ginny get hurt again," Hermione said. "She was so in love with Harry, and he was so.oblivious."  
  
Ron narrowed his eyes. "You do realize why she was hurt the first time?" he asked in a low voice, referring to Hermione's rocky romance with the dark-haired boy. Seeing the obvious hurt that flashed across her astonished face, he stepped closer and sighed. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was uncalled for. But Ginny is a big girl now, and I think she knows what she's doing."  
  
Hermione smiled slightly. "Mature words for a big brother," she chuckled.  
  
"And anyways," Ron said, "We don't know that she's professing her love for Potter in there. Somehow, I doubt they're snogging wildly while we're out here talking."  
  
Hermione frowned.  
  
"Come to think of it," Ron continued with a sly twinkle, "Why are we just talking?"  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows, and Ron smiled suggestively.  
  
Harry Potter was soon forgotten.  
  
~*~  
  
"Why did you let her go, then?"  
  
Harry paused, thought about her question. He remembered Hermione's expression during their first split, and how it ached inside him to see her crestfallen face every time he was with Cho Chang. He thought back to the Yule Ball, recalling Hermione dancing with Ron, watching as she smiled shyly, her first real smile since their split, and he felt once again the pang that had stabbed him because he knew the smile was not directed at him. But it had been his decision, Harry reminded himself, he had been the git that ended the relationship. He sighed. "Let's not talk about Hermione anymore," he said.  
  
Ginny arched an eyebrow. "Harry," she said, "are you sure?"  
  
"Positive."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Harry searched for something to say, something to fill the empty silence that seemed to appear so often between them now. "What about you, are you going to be okay all by yourself in the Malfoy Manor?"  
  
"I won't be alone, I'll have the other maids there." Ginny smiled, jutted out her chin. "I'm sure they all hate the Malfoys as much we do, after all, the only people that come close to enjoying Draco Malfoy's company would be those idiotic Slytherins."  
  
"And I doubt any Slytherins would be willing to work," Harry finished wryly.  
  
"Precisely." Ginny beamed. "Listen, Harry, don't worry about me. I'm going to be perfectly fine." She leapt to her feet. "I really should be going now though, I don't think it would be very mannerly to show up late on the first day."  
  
"Especially since you're boss will be the Malfoys," he agreed vehemently.  
  
"I'm glad we had this talk."  
  
He nodded. "Owl me often."  
  
"And Harry?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Don't worry about Hermione. It wasn't meant to be. Some things just aren't."  
  
She opened the door, staring into the surprised faces of Hermione and Ron. "I'm ready," she announced.  
  
~*~  
  
"Wait here."  
  
Malfoy Manor was, perhaps, the largest estate Ginny Weasley had ever seen. "Okay," she answered distantly as the ghost butler trailed off in search of a maid. The beautiful chandeliers, luxurious carpets, and glossy finishes were way too much to take in all at once, and so she stared, limp with admiration.  
  
"You know, no matter how long you stare at it, it still won't become yours." A voice drawled from behind her.  
  
Ginny whirled around, all lavish things forgotten, only to stare up into the condescending silver eyes of her most loathed enemy. He stood, tall and foreboding, light glinting off the perfect coif of white-blond hair as he gazed down at her in disdain.  
  
"What are you doing here, Weasley." He said coldly, spitting out her last name with obvious contempt. With anyone else, it would have been a question, but Draco Malfoy did not ask anyone anything.  
  
Ginny drew herself straighter, and yet no words came to mind. It wasn't because he was going to be a seventh year; age never fazed her. But it was Malfoy, who stirred every ounce of pure hate from deep within her body and raised it bubbling to her mouth. It was at that moment a faint notion inside of her clicked, and she realized just exactly what she gotten herself into. "Actually, Malfoy," she seethed, "I'm working here."  
  
"Working."  
  
"That's right," Ginny said, sticking her chin out defiantly. "But really, why are you hiring maids, did the house elves all kill themselves from being in your presence?"  
  
Draco grimaced, but it was for such a brief moment Ginny had to wonder whether she was seeing things. "My father decided that hiring actual maids would be a better demonstration of wealth and power, and you know that we can afford it."  
  
"And being that he isn't here this summer, he won't have to deal with the maids," Ginny realized.  
  
Draco ignored her statement, a lazy, catlike grin spreading across his face. "You're here for the entire summer term then, I presume."  
  
Something about the noncommittal tone of his voice irked her, and she flushed. "That's right."  
  
"Weasley poverty finally get to you, did it." He smirked. "Or was it just be cause you realized nobody wanted you back at home?"  
  
"Not quite either." She matched his leering expression. "But you wouldn't understand, since your father will pay for your entire existence."  
  
His eyes narrowed to icy gray slits. "My father would never hire a Weasley," he sneered, "especially not one as inept as yourself."  
  
"Right," she scoffed. "If you really want to know who hired me- "  
  
"I don't."  
  
"-it was your mother."  
  
An eyebrow rose. "My mother," Draco repeated, cocking his head at her. "Good. She won't mind if I fire you."  
  
"Actually," Ginny snapped, "we signed a contract, which means you can't fire me." She shot him a triumphant smile, lips stretched thin and wan with anger.  
  
He was unfazed, his face remaining placidly calm. "It also means you can't quit," he said. Ginny went pale. Draco leaned in close to her face, and brought his lips close to her ear. "No matter what happens," he whispered, "you're not allowed to quit." Stepping back, he flicked an invisible piece of lint off his immaculate robe and smirked again.  
  
A searing flash of rage rippled through her, the millions of insults she wanted to toss at him refusing to surface. "Sod off, Malfoy."  
  
"You might want to remember that I give the orders here," Draco snorted. "You're just a maid."  
  
"You bloody prat!" Ginny exclaimed indignantly. "If I could quit, I would right now, and I regret ever signing that contract because you're just so, so-" she searched for the right word.  
  
"Intelligent? Handsome? Devilishly charming?"  
  
She glared at him with every fiber of malicious hate mustered in her blazing brown eyes, infuriated by the cold and unaffected way he spoke to her.  
  
"Pardon me?" a meek voice interrupted. The blond Slytherin tore his furious gaze away from the younger girl and glared at the maid. "I'm sorry," she began, "but Gus said there's a girl out here waiting for me." her voice trailed off.  
  
"Adrienne, this is the new maid," he said in a voice so cold Ginny felt a chill crawl up her spine, "Ginny Weasley. I trust you'll have her situated soon enough; being a Weasley, she should have nearly no possessions."  
  
And then he was gone.  
  
~End Chapter 1 


	2. What You Won't

Chapter 2. What You Won't  
  
The entire North Wing of the Malfoy Manor was carpeted in green and silver, and though the prominently Slytherin colors repulsed Ginny; she had to admire the well-furnished quarters. Servant quarters, she thought, they could afford servant quarters.  
  
"This is your room," Adrienne said, pushing open the door.  
  
Ginny paused. The room was nothing like the rest of the magnificent Malfoy Manor, its walls a blinding white. The bed was smaller than most, yet still larger than that in her Gryffindor dorm. The bureau was of the plainest wood, the closet unadorned, but above all, the room was clean, and it was hers. "It's great," she said.  
  
"My room is just down the corridor," Adrienne said softly. "If you ever need anything, not to say that you will, you can feel free to, uh, come over." She smiled up at Ginny, looking rather unsure of herself.  
  
"That's so nice of you," Ginny said warmly, setting her belongings down on the bed. "How long have you been working here?"  
  
"Since a few months ago. I figure Master Malfoy wanted some maids to start early, you know, to train the newer ones."  
  
"But a few months ago, Malfoy was still a sixth year at Hogwarts."  
  
Adrienne stared at Ginny confusedly. "Young Master Malfoy?"  
  
Ginny wanted to laugh. Malfoy must love that, she thought ruefully. "Yes, him."  
  
"Oh," Adrienne said. "You know him then?"  
  
"Unfortunately," Ginny grimaced. The elder girl studied her quietly, raising and eyebrow but not speaking. Ginny could guess that she was in her later twenties, perhaps the early thirties. "He's such a git," she continued, "I don't know how I'm going to stand him this entire summer."  
  
"He's quite cute, you know," Adrienne said suggestively.  
  
"Malfoy? Cute? Somehow I don't associate those two words together," Ginny laughed bitterly. Adrienne's eyes widened, but again, she said nothing. But then, contemplating her words, Ginny realized that half the Hogwarts female population went weak at the knees when Malfoy walked past. Her brow furrowed as she recalled the expressionless gray stare that bore into her just outside the room, and considered the fact that yes, to some, Malfoy would be attractive. The idea of him being desirable to her, however, was still one that did not settle easily in her stomach.  
  
"If you're going to be here all summer, you should probably learn to like Young Malfoy, or at least tolerate him," Adrienne advised, shaking her head with a small smile. Ginny winced. "Anyways, the morning bell rings at six. We prepare food, and serve at seven-thirty." She turned, pausing by the door. "I suggest you get your sleep now."  
  
Ginny collapsed on her bed, exhausted. Sleep would come easily.  
  
~*~  
  
"Where is the food?" Draco demanded.  
  
The breakfast table was empty, Narcissa having risen early and left, leaving Draco sitting alone and undoubtedly hungry in the great dining hall. "It'll will be here, sir," one of the maids pleaded apologetically.  
  
"I knew this whole maids affair was a bad idea," he muttered under his breath.  
  
The door opened, and so did Draco's jaw. Weasley? He thought incredulously as Ginny pulled a silver cart through the entrance, refusing to meet his eye. She was dressed immaculately in her standard uniform, black with white lace, something she would have never worn back at Hogwarts, and so ridiculously stern Draco almost wanted to laugh. Instead, he eyed her coolly, his mind spinning as he realized how easy it would be to make her life hell when summer ended.  
  
"Your food," Ginny said stiffly. The maid behind her elbowed her in the stomach, and Ginny flinched, adding, "Young. Master. Malfoy." Red flushed up her neck, and she turned, disgusted and humiliated. She didn't need to look at Draco to know he was stretching back in his seat with that scheming smile of his, obviously amused by her forced tirade.  
  
"Why, thank you," Draco drawled in mock politeness in between mouthfuls of food. "You know, you Weasleys should get used to serving other people." Ginny clenched her jaw and tightened her hold on the pudding platter as she heaved it up to her shoulder, ready and willing to give him a chocolate facial. He caught her wrist easily in the palm of his hand. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he murmured, his eyes locking on hers.  
  
Startled by the touch of his cool hand, she loosened her grip, and the platter accidentally flipped up into the air, contents splattering everywhere and sending her tumbling to the ground. Draco stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the table, and surveyed the mess before him, glaring down at her. "I'm sorry," Ginny offered weakly, struggling to hold back a smile. The sight of Draco Malfoy with pudding trickling down his regal robes was something she had longed to witness since his first demeaning remark towards her family.  
  
"I'm sure you are," He replied, voice dripping with sarcasm and malice. She quieted. Wordlessly, he bent down and grabbed her forearm, pulling her back up. He glanced at her, standing dumbfounded with chocolate smeared all over her hands and the ends of her hair, a perplexed expression crossing her face at receiving help from a Malfoy, and his eyes softened a little.  
  
"I am, Young Master Malfoy," she said with a grin, ruining all sympathy or bemusement he could have drawn from the situation.  
  
His face hardened back into that collected mask of calm. "Go clean yourself up," he snarled, "you look like shit run over."  
  
Ginny's eyes bugged out a little, and she took a step back, looking at the cold Malfoy in front of her who has just helped her up. Hurt flashed through her face quickly, and scurrying out of the room, she paused at the door. "By the way, Malfoy," she shot back before disappearing, "brown is not your best color."  
  
~*~  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
"Ginny?" Hermione's face appeared above the fire, confused but ultimately delighted. "Does Malfoy know you're using the fireplace?"  
  
Ginny shook her head. "He's too busy cleaning pudding off himself," she giggled, quickly explaining the incident in the dining hall.  
  
"And you're still alive?" Hermione frowned.  
  
"Sorry to disappoint you," Ginny chuckled.  
  
"No, I mean, I'm surprised Malfoy hasn't killed you yet. With his temper," Hermione stopped. "Never mind. How is the prat anyways?"  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Annoying the bloody crap out of me. I have to call him 'Young Master Malfoy.' It's terrible."  
  
"I can imagine."  
  
"What about you, Herm? You seem sad."  
  
Hermione's eyes darkened, welling with tears, and she looked down at her hands. "I'm not.sad," she said softly, "just confused." She took a shuddery breath and blinked a few times, adding, "I don't think you want to know about it."  
  
"Ron, isn't it?"  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
"And Harry, too. Harry's involved."  
  
"Harry.kissed me, Gin." Hermione confessed. "I thought Harry and I were long over but then he kissed and, oh, I don't know."  
  
Ginny was shocked. No, shocked was an understatement. How could you, Harry? She thought angrily. "He did? When? How? Where?"  
  
Hermione sighed. "Oh, I hate to admit it but it was a wonderful kiss and the moment he did I felt so disloyal to Ron. I wanted to end it, I tried to end it, but it.didn't."  
  
"Did you kiss him back?"  
  
"Of course not!" Hermione declared, astonished. "But listen, it's not how I reacted that's bothering me, its how he acted. I thought Harry and I were through, and I'm happy with Ron, I really am, but I guess I need some time to.sort out my feelings."  
  
"Did you tell Ron?"  
  
Hermione bit her lower lip and shook her head. "I want to," she said quietly. "I can't find the right time, or the courage to tell him. You know how easily he gets emotional Ginny. And I know how weird this must be for you, I mean, you're his sister. This will ruin Harry's friendship with Ron, I know it will."  
  
Somewhere deep inside her, Ginny felt a pang of jealousy, not because she still loved Harry, but because Hermione was wanted. Two wonderful guys would move mountains for her, both close friends she could share a wonderful summer with, and here she was, all alone but for Draco Malfoy. "Just let things settle down," Ginny said. "It'll get better."  
  
A tear trickled out of Hermione's eye. "But when, Ginny, when?" Quickly, she ran her finger under the glistening lashes. "I'm just scared because I know in the end, I can only keep one of them as a friend. And things will never be the same."  
  
"It's all Harry's fault," Ginny said hotly. Her bitterness at he had never noticed her pining, her jealousy at how he yet still loved Hermione, and most of all, her anger at how he would risk so much, including Ron, for a girl, made her mad with feeling.  
  
Hermione shook her head sadly. "No, Ginny, it's mine. I should have seen it coming, I shouldn't.have let it happen."  
  
"I talked to Harry before we left-"  
  
"Is that what you were talking about?"  
  
"What did you think?"  
  
Hermione shrugged, offering a wan smile. "Ron and I joked that you two were.you know," she said with a little laugh.  
  
Ginny paused. "Did that idea bother you?"  
  
Hermione looked taken aback. "No! Why would it?"  
  
Ginny breathed and changed the subject. "Listen, Hermione, I'm going to owl Harry. Take Ron somewhere else for the mean time. If you want to work things out with him at all, distance will do the trick."  
  
"Thanks, Gin."  
  
"We'll talk later, I promise."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Her face disappeared, and Ginny slumped down against the sofa, closing her eyes. Why were things so difficult, she wondered, and why was she always involved? She recalled the Yule ball awhile back, the first dance after Harry and Hermione's split, remembering Harry's jealous glare at Ron and Hermione, and most of all, she remember sitting alone in the corner. Alone, Ginny thought, I'm always alone.  
  
"Tired already?" a voice behind her snarled, a voice that could only belong to Draco Malfoy. "I should have known you couldn't hold your own."  
  
Ginny craned her neck to meet his eyes, tired and not in the mood for another round of insults. "Sod off, Malfoy." She grumbled half-heartedly. A thick silence hung between them.  
  
"What's wrong?" the softness of his voice startled her as he knelt down beside her.  
  
"Are you honestly concerned if I'm upset?" Ginny asked quietly, meeting his gaze.  
  
It was not a good question to ask. Immediately, the concern vanished from his face and he smirked. "Not really," he replied effortlessly, standing up once again. "Actually, Weasley, I have a list of tasks you need to complete before nightfall."  
  
"Tasks?"  
  
"Like chores, Weasley. Remember how you're a maid?"  
  
He tossed something at her and turned on his heel, leaving Ginny staring after him. She could have sworn that for a moment, he actually cared whether her heart ached for Hermione.  
  
It was the second time in a day he had acted halfway human, if just for a few seconds.  
  
~*~  
  
"Your food, Madame Malfoy."  
  
It had been nearly two weeks since Ginny started working at Malfoy Manor, and the more she saw of her job, the less she despised it. For the most part, she didn't even have to see Malfoy, and the routine of her life pleased her. Narcissa Malfoy was actually cordial to the servants, not quite kind, but at least civil.  
  
"Sorry I'm late, Mother."  
  
Ginny glanced up. Malfoy. He smirked at her. "Planning on serving my food any time soon, Weasley?"  
  
"Sure, ferret-face." Narcissa cleared her throat, looking at the young maid in surprise and befuddlement. "I mean, Young Master Malfoy," Ginny corrected. That she would probably never get used to.  
  
"Draco," Narcissa began, clearing her throat one more time. "I do have to rush now, but don't forget to pick up your supplies from Diagon Alley. And I would prefer if one of the maids accompanied you."  
  
Draco frowned. "Mother-" She looked at him expectantly. "I'm sure they all have chores," he finally said.  
  
"Why don't you accompany him?"  
  
Ginny froze. "Me?"  
  
"Yes you, the little redhead." Narcissa smiled at her son before exiting the room. "Do hurry back, dear."  
  
The two looked at each other in stony silence, Narcissa's footsteps still echoing against the stone ground.  
  
Ginny sighed. A day with Draco. Alone.  
  
How fun.  
  
~End Chapter 2 


	3. Slytherin Encounters

Chapter 3. Slytherin Encounters  
  
Diagon Alley was not busy in June. It was actually relatively empty, shadowed by a cool, light breeze. The area grew noticeably colder, Ginny thought, upon Draco's arrival. She could barely keep up with him, his long legs taking easy, rhythmic strides as she hurried beside him. He ignored all the subtle pleas she sent and continued his pace, fast as ever.  
  
"Could you slow down?" Ginny panted after a few minutes.  
  
"I guess Weasleys are slow in more than one sense," he drawled, looking straight ahead.  
  
"Malfoy!"  
  
No response.  
  
She tugged on his hand, forcing him to stop. Draco glared at her hand like the bubonic plague itself and landed on him, and withdrew his own sharply. A warm rush of blood seeped up Ginny's neck, and she stepped back quickly, trying not to show that for some peculiar reason, she was wounded. Stupid move, she told herself. "Malfoy, I can't keep up with you," Ginny pleaded.  
  
"You're not the first girl to tell me that," he drawled suggestively.  
  
"You know what I mean," Ginny snapped hotly.  
  
He sighed like she was eight years old. "How about this," he said, "I go pick up my broom, and you wander around and hope that someone will drop you a few Knuts."  
  
Ginny could feel the tips of her ears burn red with indignation. "You git," she seethed, "why would I bloody do that?"  
  
He looked down at her through lowered lashes. "You didn't bring any money," he pointed out with a smirk.  
  
He was right, Ginny realized. She opened her mouth to reply, but he had already disappeared.  
  
"Great," Ginny muttered, tugging her thin sweater around her tighter as a breeze swept through the alley. For a few minutes, she stood, contemplating her options and realizing, truly, that there was nowhere to go. Candy, she thought, remembering her last trip to Diagon Alley with Harry. If Draco had been around, he would have seen her entire face light up. That's what she would do, Ginny decided, and headed off in search of the candy store.  
  
~*~  
  
"Is this the Firebolt I asked for?" Draco snarled.  
  
The shopkeeper nodded, terrified by his presence, or maybe his name.  
  
"Here." Draco counted out the galleons and slung them on the counter, striding out of the store.  
  
"Come again!" The shopkeeper called after him meekly.  
  
That was fairly quick, Draco thought, letting the breeze tickle his face for a moment before considering whether he should go look for Ginny. He settled on wandering for a few minutes, making the Weasley wait just for good measure. He was almost positive the redhead would be waiting patiently at the gate. Let's wait until she becomes impatient, he decided with a chuckle, almost smiling as he pictured how her fiery brown eyes sparked whenever provoked into anger, mostly, of course, by him.  
  
Weasley. She was growing up, indeed.  
  
"Draco!"  
  
He turned, furrowed his brow. "Pansy?"  
  
Pansy Parkinson beamed up into his face, the lines creasing her little upturned nose when she crinkled it into a smile. "It's you," she breathed.  
  
"It is."  
  
"Why are you here, so early in the summer?" she said flirtatiously, poking his chest. Draco shrugged, lifted up his new broom. "Oh wow," she whispered, "it's beautiful."  
  
"And you're here because," Draco returned politely.  
  
She tossed her headful of curls and smiled again. "I was bored," she said with a giggle. Draco winced inwardly. He had suffered through two weeks of that giggle when they had been paired in Potions, and had rejoiced when it was over. She was a Slytherin, that was true, but could also be accounted for as his least favorite Slytherin. Avoiding Pansy Parkinson was not an easy task, but it was, however, one Draco had thought himself good at until this moment. A hand latched onto his arm. "Are you here alone?" she asked throatily.  
  
Draco grimaced. "Not exactly," he replied.  
  
Her eyes widened, lips curling into an interested smile. "Oh really? And which lucky lady got to come with you here?"  
  
He frowned. He couldn't exactly tell her the "lucky lady" was Ginny Weasley; she'd shriek before he even got a chance to explain about the servant business. "Nobody," he said with a smile that let his even teeth gleam in the light, turning on the Malfoy charm full power, hoping she'd drop the subject.  
  
"You know," Pansy purred, stepping closer than Draco would've liked, "I did see another Hogwarts student here."  
  
"And who would that be."  
  
"You wouldn't care about her," Pansy giggled again, "she's a Gryffindor."  
  
Draco snorted. "Let me guess," he said, "Ginny Weasley."  
  
Her eyes grew even larger, two round discs of blue. "How did you know?"  
  
He shrugged modestly, wanting to laugh at her denseness but ultimately holding it back in the sake of Slytherin peace. Not to say that Pansy Parkinson could have any effect over his reputation. "I guess I just know these things," he said mysteriously. "But listen, Pansy, I really do have to go."  
  
"Owl me sometime, Draco, promise?"  
  
"Sure," he promised half-heartedly, leaving her standing with a dreamy smile spread across her face. So glad was he to escape Pansy he nearly jogged to the entrance, ready to grab Ginny and leave. But there was one slight problem.  
  
Ginny wasn't there.  
  
Fury bubbled in his chest. How dare she, he thought. Now he'd have to actually go in search for her. I didn't tell her to wait for me, though, Draco realized. This was great, just great. Diagon Alley wasn't exactly a classroom; finding Ginny would actually take some effort.  
  
Fortunately, the candy shop was within eyesight.  
  
"Why are you in here," he roared, "when you knew bloody well I'd be out in a few minutes."  
  
She gave him a saucy smile. "I was looking for money, remember?"  
  
"I can see by your clothes that once again, you don't have any," he sneered.  
  
"Sod off. Why did you take so bloody long, anyways?"  
  
"I ran into Pansy Parkinson."  
  
Ginny snorted. "Oh, Pansy," she cooed. "How is your wonderful girlfriend by the way? Still looking for her brain?"  
  
"Unlike you, Weasley, her head isn't up her arse," Draco replied coolly, "and she's not my girlfriend." He grimaced at the idea of dating Pansy Parkinson.  
  
"Ma'am?" the man behind the counter ventured. "Would you like these?"  
  
"What are those," Draco demanded.  
  
"Candy, sir," he replied. "The young lady's favorite."  
  
"I'm sorry," Ginny apologized, "I was just looking. I don't have any money with me right now."  
  
"Give me a bag."  
  
She stopped, staring at Draco in surprise. "What are you doing?" she hissed.  
  
"Buying candy," he answered nonchalantly, reaching into his robe for money.  
  
They stepped outside the shop, candy in hand, and for a second Ginny thought he was being civil, that he had actually purchased the candy for her. "I'll pay you back," she said softly, the gratitude echoing in her voice.  
  
He laughed rudely. "For what?"  
  
"The candy."  
  
His laugh grew louder, meaner, cruder. "Why? It's not for you." He opened the bag and popped one in his mouth immediately, making Ginny reprimand herself vehemently for even thinking such stupid thoughts, as if Draco Malfoy would even care about making her happy. "Mmmm, it is good. I can see why it's your favorite. A shame you can't afford any, isn't it?" Draco winked at her, hand digging back into the bag.  
  
"I hate you, Malfoy."  
  
"Coming from you, that's a compliment, Weasley."  
  
"You know, I pity the woman who's going to marry you," Ginny said angrily, "given you even find one stupid enough."  
  
He stopped, hand halfway to his mouth, and looked at her with both scorn and curiosity. "And why is that?"  
  
"Because you're selfish, and horrible, and you're going to turn out exactly like your father," Ginny spat.  
  
"Take that back." His voice was dangerously low.  
  
"Fine. You're going to turn out worse than Lucius." Ginny glared at him, knowing full well she was skating on thin ice but refusing to back down anyways.  
  
Anger flickered in his face. "Is that right?" he snarled.  
  
"That's right," Ginny nearly shouted, "and you know it, you prat."  
  
He started to sneer at her, he started to respond, but instead, he sat down.  
  
And for some reason Ginny didn't even know, she stopped. Maybe it was his tone, or the fact that most of the rage was being displaced with an emotion she'd never seen on Draco Malfoy-hurt. And though it disappeared as quickly as it came, Ginny knew that she had seen it, she knew that for the first time in her life she had caused Draco pain. She should have been rejoicing, striking him while he was hurt, but she didn't because one realization stunned her.  
  
It wasn't as satisfactory as she had expected.  
  
"Malfoy," she whispered, "I'm sorry."  
  
His head snapped up. "No, you're not," he said hoarsely.  
  
"I am." Ginny sat down beside him. "I shouldn't have used your father against you," she swallowed, almost incredulous that she was explaining herself to Malfoy. After all he had done to her, she owed him no explanation, and certainly no apology. But she continued nevertheless. "It-It's not your fault, Malfoy. You're not your father."  
  
He stared at her intently, watching his reflection in the pools of her brown eyes. A few moments elapsed in silence, probably not even a minute though it felt like hours to her, and Ginny began to wish she had never opened her mouth. Then, suddenly, he shoved the pouch of candy into her hands and stood up. "Take them," he said gruffly.  
  
She watched his retreating figure with a slack jaw, then glanced down at the candy in her hands. And before she could stop herself, a small smile appeared at the corners of her lips. She sat smiling at the candy for a few seconds before it dawned on her that he was returning home. "Malfoy, wait!" She dashed after him, nearly running beside his fast steps. Once again, he ignored her.  
  
And just when he'd started acting decent.  
  
~*~  
  
Alone in the solitude of her room but for the slight night breeze blowing in through the window, Ginny spread her fingers across a sheet of parchment. It had been quite a while since her conversation with Hermione, and she knew that as Hermione's friend, she should have written a letter to Harry.  
  
Dear Harry, she began. Ginny stopped. What was she supposed to write? Part of her, the part that was Ron Weasley's sister wanted to accuse him, and yell at him for even daring to make a move on Hermione when he knew perfectly well that she was with Ron. And the other part wanted to understand his motives, his intense love for a girl he had once loved and lost. It was a dilemma, she thought, so she'd begin with simple cordialities. How are you? Ginny wrote. This is terrible, she thought, leaning back in her chair and eyeing the most definitely empty paper. There was no way she could ever express her true feelings but just writing. Thankfully, someone knocked on her door. Good, a distraction, Ginny thought giddily, rushing out of her chair to let Adrienne in.  
  
Only it wasn't Adrienne. It was Draco.  
  
"Evening, Weasley," he said coolly before striding past her into the room.  
  
Ginny stared after him, feeling stupid and rather blind. She had to wonder, was Draco Malfoy actually in her room?  
  
Apparently, she had wondered aloud because he replied lazily, "Yes, Draco Malfoy is actually in your room. Though technically, it still isn't your room."  
  
She flushed. "What do you want," she said tightly.  
He stretched out in her chair, long and lean. "I was just informing you that there's going to be a guest here for the next few days."  
  
"Really. And who would that be."  
  
He opened his mouth to answer, but then stopped, catching sight of the parchment on the desk. "Dear Harry," he read aloud, mimicking her voice, "how are you?"  
  
Ginny turned even redder, if that was at all possible. "Give that back," she demanded.  
  
"I'm sure Potter will be absolutely astounded by your insightful words," he snickered.  
  
"You're just jealous," Ginny nearly yelled.  
  
"Oh really? Care to enlighten me what I'm jealous about?" Draco arched an eyebrow, tilting his head and daring her to respond.  
  
"You're jealous," Ginny spit out, "because I actually have friends, people that care whether I bloody go to hell or not."  
  
"And are you?"  
  
"Am I what?"  
  
Draco smirked. "Are you going to hell?"  
  
"I've seen enough of you in this lifetime, Malfoy," Ginny shot back darkly. He simply smiled, that wicked but charming smile of his, and walked past her out the door, parchment in hand. "Hey!" Ginny shouted after him. "Give that back!" He jogged down the stair easily, not turning once to watch the frenzied redhead scamper after him until he reached the bottom.  
  
Ready to attack him, Ginny stormed down the steps after him, meeting his amused gray gaze furiously. Her foot, however, missed a step as she neared the bottom and sent her tripping down the steps. Faintly, it registered that falling face-first into the marble would hurt, and Ginny prepared herself for the unavoidable crash.  
  
But it never happened.  
  
Two arms reached out, wrapped around her waist as her face fell into the softly scented robes of her savior. She looked up, intoxicated by the cologne, and into Draco. Ginny wanted so desperately to pull away, to slap him as the whole incident had been his fault, anyhow. But for some reason all she could do was stand limp in his arms, feeling his breath upon her face, and stare into those beautiful silver eyes.  
  
She was so close he could count the freckles across the bridge of her nose. "Weasley," he murmured dimly, "Does Harry's letter really matter so much to you?"  
  
She was speechless in his arms, and as he pulled back slightly her hands around him involuntarily increased their pressure, bringing her nose close to his. The moment was so quiet, so gentle, and so intense Ginny didn't even comprehend that sweet smell making her dizzy belonged to Draco Malfoy, the one and only who had devoted much of his 2nd year to making her life miserable.  
  
"Excuse me, Weasley," a sneering female voice interjected, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
Ginny froze. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. Collected, exotic, and hopelessly Slytherin, there was only one person who could ever rival Draco's attitude in contempt.  
  
Blaise Zabini.  
  
~End of Chapter 3 


	4. When Hell Blaises Through

A/N* I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing (or even just reading), I really appreciate it! Would've updated sooner (I actually had part of this chapter done when I posted chapter 3) but finals and all, blech, kind of provided an obstacle for that. But here it is!  
  
Chapter 4. When Hell Blaises Through  
  
Draco stiffened.  
  
She couldn't be here already, he thought frantically. But there she was, Blaise Zabini, standing undoubtedly irked in the middle of his living room with arms crossed under her chest as she eyed Ginny with dubious disdain. Suddenly he realized the presence of Ginny's hands around him, and he pushed her away sharply. Gasping so softly it was inaudible to anyone else but her, the redhead flushed a deep shade of scarlet and retreated a few steps, refusing to look at either one of them.  
  
"Blaise," he said, his throat drier than he would have wished, "you're early."  
  
"Surprise," she said darkly.  
  
"Not that I owe you any explanation, but this isn't how it looks."  
  
"I would hope not," she sniffed, "because it bloody looks like you were holding a Weasley in your arms."  
  
His face darkened noticeably. "Jealous?" he said in a low voice.  
  
Blaise positioned herself centimeters away. "Of Weasley? Hardly," she snorted softly, trailing a well-manicured finger down his bare arm and flashing what she intended as a mesmerizing grin. "I would be, however, of any girl truly capable of capturing the coveted affections of yours truly."  
  
"You of all people should know, Blaise, that jealousy is just another sign of weakness," he responded easily. His eyes, however, displayed no sign of antipathy as it did around Ginny, and she took no offense to his comment.  
  
"You know me too well," she breathed, one side of her mouth curling up flirtatiously.  
  
Draco stared at her for a few seconds emotionlessly, their heads unnervingly close. Blaise's eyes were half-lidded, her breathing labored from anticipation, and he nearly smiled at how transparent she was.  
  
Ginny watched the entire interchange with a mixture of emotions somewhere between envy and disgust; envy because Blaise had an unnatural poise with men, one she would most likely never acquire, and disgust because Draco had, if indirectly, influenced her feelings in some way, and quite frankly, that was not something she wanted. Uncomfortable yet, Ginny cleared her throat.  
  
He stepped back. "You should probably get some sleep now," he said, suddenly expressionless.  
  
Her eyes flew open and her entire face contorted into a frown. "What?"  
  
"You should get some sleep," Draco repeated. "The maid will show you to your room." He gestured vaguely at Ginny.  
  
"Weasley's the maid?" Blaise asked incredulously.  
  
"Why the surprise, Blaise? She is a Weasley, after all," Draco drawled, smirking at Ginny as he turned to leave, ignoring her glower. "She'll find a guest room for you to stay in."  
  
"Which room, Malfoy?" Ginny spoke up.  
  
Draco paused, glancing between the two ladies before him. "Whichever," he dismissed, disappearing into the adjacent hallway.  
  
Ginny looked at Blaise uncertainly, not bothering to hide her dislike. A thick, uncomfortable silence air settled between them, well captioned by deathly glares that spoke for both. "This way," Ginny finally said, indicating towards the East Wing. The elder girl followed suit in stony silence, obviously not wanting to but nevertheless having no better choice.  
  
By now, she was fairly well acquainted with the layout of Malfoy Manor, and in six and a half minutes (she'd counted), Ginny had found Blaise a guest room. Sure, when the sun rose the massive rays would awaken any sleeper, and yes, it was farthest from the bathroom, but Blaise certainly didn't know that. Ginny giggled to herself, leaving the Slytherin to admire her surroundings.  
  
"Nitey nite," she said in a syrupy voice before shutting the door.  
  
Blaise glared at where the Weasley had just been standing. How dare Draco, she fumed, leaving this cretin of a maid to show me to my room. Where were the Malfoy manners his parents had instilled? But then again, there were so many things she had to question about Draco at this point, so many things she wanted to call him on and yet, she hadn't the courage.  
  
Sinking down onto her bed, Blaise groaned. What was wrong with him, anyway? She was Blaise fucking Zabini, damnit, Slytherin prefect, cold yet desired by all. Was she not beautiful enough for him? Blaise faced the polished antique mirror, admired the long legs, the shiny tousled hair, the dark entrancing eyes, and the utterly feminine curves that had seduced nearly every male at Hogwarts. No, she was definitely beautiful. They didn't come more beautiful than her. It puzzled her: her entire life, she had gotten what she wanted, especially when it came to men. Men, Blaise thought with a laugh, they were such simple creatures; so easy to manipulate it almost took all the fun out of the game.  
  
And then there was Draco.  
  
Blaise pursed her lips, picturing his stony gray eyes, his haughty demeanor and towering height, and she smiled to herself. He would look wonderful on her arm at the Yule ball, she decided, already salivating at the jealous glares she would get from the girls. She had decided from her first day at Hogwarts that Draco Malfoy would be hers; she'd in fact planned on starting the relationship sometime into 2nd or 3rd year, so by the time they reached 7th year, as they were now doing, all the school would know bloody well that Draco Malfoy belonged to Blaise Zabini. And they would all envy her, more so than they did now, because she had something nearly everyone wanted, and she was keeping that something. Or someone.  
  
But Blaise had never considered the one glitch in her plan: that Draco wouldn't want her. It was admittedly a large setback, one that came into focus at the end of her 3rd year, but being the determined Zabini she was, Blaise had fought for him, flirted with him, tried her best to make him succumb to her infamous charisma. It was like one giant game of quidditch- he was the snitch and she was the principal player; sooner or later, she figured, she'd capture him.  
  
Her goal never stopped her from frolicking with the other Slytherins, however; she was in her teens for crissakes. But even so, she never did actually enter a relationship, nor acknowledge that she was taken by someone other than Draco. She'd even tried using those other guys to entice him, purposely leaving her bedroom door open a smidgen during those wild late nights, hoping the noise would make him wish that he were the one in her bed. It had always worked with other guys.  
  
She knew by now, though, that he wasn't like the other guys, he was aloof and distant, probably the only she'd ever met who could actually resist her charms. And resist them so well, Blaise thought wryly. Now they were nearing the end of their schooling, with but a year left, and he was still most definitely not hers. Her frustration with him was now bordering on desperation.  
  
And so, her master plan came into play. Arranging to stay with the Malfoys had been fairly easy; the Zabinis and the Malfoys were linked together rather closely, if not by business than by social circles. Now all that remained was the actual seduction, but Blaise had all summer to enthrall him, and she was confident that by the time 7th year began, her most valuable accessory would be a devastatingly handsome blond.  
  
Blaise smiled wickedly. It was just a matter of time.  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny stood outside Draco's room, breathing deeply as she prepared herself for what she presumed to be a confrontation. I can do this, she told herself with false confidence. But it was more than that; she needed to because for nearly three weeks now, she'd had no contact whatsoever with her family and friends. The letter she'd started to Harry never got beyond the two sentences, and after her brief conversation with Hermione she had never returned to the fireplace. But that's partly my own fault, she reminded. Either way, it didn't matter. It was time she deserved a break.  
  
Pushing open the door, she stormed in, her face a mask of grim determination. "Malfoy!" She shouted. She was ready for and expecting a fight, all the mean sneers and leers she knew were coming, even the derogatory little comments he was bound to toss her way.  
  
What she hadn't expected, however, was a half-naked Malfoy.  
  
"Jesus, Weasley, don't you ever bloody knock?" Draco snarled in angry astonishment, scrambling to keep his towel from falling off his hips.  
  
Ginny blinked, her mouth flapping open. She was certainly not at a loss for words because of his body - though the flaming blush on her cheeks accounted for that - it was just that of all situations she'd imagined, the last was one in which she nearly had the upper hand. Nearly.  
  
She recovered. "Why aren't you dressed?" she demanded, though it came out much feebler than she'd have hoped for.  
  
"It's called a shower," he responded nastily, "maybe if you tried one, people wouldn't run away from you."  
  
"It's the middle of the day," she protested lamely.  
  
"Yes well, some of us actually care about personal hygiene."  
  
"Why?" she taunted as a sudden heat of courage rushed through her veins, "it's not like anyone is stupid or blind enough to actually get close to you." He narrowed those piercing eyes at her darkly, and she shuddered inwardly. Not a good way to ask the boss for a vacation, Ginny told herself, and then shuddered again because she had acknowledged him as her boss willingly, even if only in her thoughts.  
  
"Weasley, if you haven't noticed, this is my room," Draco said calmly. "So if I were you, I'd just say whatever the hell you want to say and scurry up on out of here."  
  
At least he was being relatively civil, Ginny thought.  
  
"Oh, and by the way," he added knowingly, "I know you haven't seen many gorgeous guys, being in love with Potter and all, but do try not to drool. The saliva might damage my carpeting."  
  
"Narcissistic prick," Ginny muttered.  
  
If he heard her, he didn't respond. Instead, Draco sauntered over to his bureau and fiddled for a clean shirt, slipping it over his head. "Well?" he prompted when he'd spun back around, still not completely clothed but at least covered up now.  
  
"Well what."  
  
"Well what did you want?"  
  
"A break," Ginny said firmly, finally remembering the purpose of this oh-so- pleasant encounter. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, waiting for her to finish. "I've had to deal with your little friend for more than a week now," she continued, her voice wavering with rage, "and let me tell you, Malfoy, it's been hell. I have people to see and errands to do, and I want you to let me go home for a few days." She ended her brief speech rather abruptly, proud that she had spoken concisely.  
  
He paused, thinking over her words. "No," he said simply.  
  
"No?"  
  
"No." He shook his head.  
  
"But," Ginny sputtered, "all the other maids are on leave, except Adrienne, and me, and one or two more."  
  
"All the more reason why you should be here," Draco smirked, and Ginny knew she was cornered. "Now, as much as I know you want to see me change my bottom half," he said, indicating his towel, "I'd be much more comfortable if you were out of the room."  
  
For the second time in the past few minutes, Ginny was speechless. This time, though, it was with fury. But before she could say anything, before she could even comprehend what was happening, Draco had shoved her out into the hallway. "Malfoy!" she protested angrily. He responded with a loud slam that nearly propelled her to jump back.  
  
She glared at his door.  
  
~*~  
  
Afternoons at the Malfoy Manor were usually hectic; it was a preparation for evening and, of course, supper. Ginny was no longer in a foul mood from her horrible encounter that morning in Draco's room - she had received an owl from a school friend, and it had cheered her up quite a bit. She nearly skipped to the kitchen, knowing that nobody back home had forgotten her quite yet while she was stuck waiting on atrocious Malfoy.  
  
"You can't do that!" A voice from the kitchen rose, one that Ginny recognized as Adrienne's. She stopped immediately, pressing her ear to the door, and listened intently.  
  
"I can, and I will," replied another one. Blaise, Ginny thought instantly.  
  
"But-"  
  
"Listen, you little brat, I need to get rid of her, of all of them. I obviously can't make them leave, so they'll just have to disappear," Blaise said maliciously.  
  
"I won't let you do that."  
  
"Oh yes? You just watch. You dare tell anyone, and I mean anyone, muggles included, and I'll have your job, your family, your boy, not that I expect you to have boy, and your life. Don't underestimate me. You are to keep silent, understand?"  
  
This was going to far, Ginny thought, swinging open the door and stepping in. Blaise and Adrienne looked up at her in surprise, and it was only when Blaise loosened her grip on the other's arm that Ginny noticed the white marks her fingers had caused. "What's going on?" Ginny demanded.  
  
"Nothing," Blaise said sweetly. Turning to Adrienne, she added, "do we have an understanding?"  
  
Adrienne nodded vigorously.  
  
"Good," Blaise snarled, shoving past Ginny and out the kitchen.  
  
Ginny stared at Adrienne carefully. "What's going on?" she repeated.  
  
"It's nothing," Adrienne's voice wavered.  
  
"I heard the conversation," Ginny said quietly. "What can't you tell? What is she doing?"  
  
Adrienne stared back at Ginny, lower lip trembling. "I can't say," she whispered.  
  
Ginny pressed a hand gently on her forearm, smiling encouragingly. "Don't worry," she soothed with a wry smile, "whatever Blaise has up her sleeve, it can't possibly be that bad. She's witchy, but she's not He-Who-Shall- Not-Be-Named."  
  
"You don't understand," Adrienne cried, running for the door and leaving the redhead standing quite alone and very perplexed.  
  
"Something had definitely gone afoul," Ginny murmured.  
  
She was right.  
  
~ End of Chapter 4  
  
A/N* Okay I know Harry, Hermione, and Ron have disappeared in the past chapter (and this one, and I'm thinking the next one), and that's because the plot line is going to centralize on Draco and Ginny for a while. But don't worry! They're definitely coming back later in the story. 


	5. The Plan Part I: Enacted

Chapter 5. The Plan, Part I (Enacted)  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
Ginny sank into her seat, alone in the deathly-still kitchen, voices playing over in her head. What did Blaise mean, she wondered, and who did she want to get rid of? It was all too disturbing for her to comprehend, but then again, she was one to speak, a Weasley taking orders from a bloody Malfoy.  
  
Malfoy. She winced, rubbing her head tenderly as she recalled Draco's smirk and the title she'd been forced to address him with. "Young Master Malfoy," she muttered to herself, realizing for the first time in weeks that she was exhausted and frustrated. And yet, the past while at Malfoy Manor hadn't exactly been unpleasurable, either. If anything, despicable Draco Malfoy had been, well, tolerable. Not quite friendly yet, but at least now, Ginny could stand him.  
  
Some of the time.  
  
Before she could analyze Malfoy's annoying characteristics any further, however, Narcissa Malfoy barged into the kitchen, her usually- poised face set in a mask of frustration and laced with anger. "This is not good," she said thickly.  
  
"May I ask what's wrong?" Ginny questioned, realizing how dry her throat was and reaching for one of the water glasses sitting on the counter. Helen, the head maid, liked to keep a platter of freshly filled glasses in the kitchen should the servants be in need of a quick drink, and as Ginny sipped, she felt especially grateful for this.  
  
Narcissa sighed, biting her upper lip in a most un-Malfoy display of confusion. "I don't know," she replied flatly, throwing her hands up in the air. "One of Lucius's muggle clients, he's quite displeased that he's been ignored, and I don't know how to deal with it, and I'm afriad that we're going to lose this client." She stopped, nearly in hysterics, leaning against the marble kitchen counter and breathing deeply. "He's going to be so upset," she whispered to herself.  
  
Ginny watched the entire spectacle with careful observation, more surprised than anything. To her, Narcissa Malfoy had always demonstrated the epitome of calm; never ruffled, she had perfected the art of hiding emotions nearly as well as her son. Now, watching this woman rage around the small servantile room with an utter lack of elegance was something Ginny, or anyone else for that matter, was quite unaccustomed to seeing.  
  
"Why don't you ask Lucius?" Ginny asked in a small voice, trying her best to be somewhat helpful.  
  
Narcissa sighed, exasperated. "Of course I thought of that," she said plaintively, "but at this moment I can't seem to locate my prat of a husband."  
  
"Madame Malfoy," Ginny reassured, "I'm sure things will be fine. Send something over to Lu-Mister Malfoy's client, and things will be smoothed over in no time."  
  
She gazed up at the young servant, eyes bloodshot from alcohol and sleep deprivation. "A gift," she said excitedly, "a bribe."  
  
Ginny nodded in encouragement. "Exactly. In no time, things will be fine."  
  
"But what do I send a muggle?"  
  
Racking her head, Ginny beamed. "Wine, perhaps?" she suggested.  
  
"Yes, wine," Narcissa repeated, a smile gracing her lips. "A most excellent idea. My dear, do pick out an expensive wine from that ridiculous cellar and send it up to my room."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Wine," she repeated over and over with a dazed look as she floated out of the room, "why didn't I think of that?"  
  
Ginny watched the elder woman as she leaved, still amazed at the striking physical resemblance between mother and son and wondering to herself whether Lucius had been different when he married Narcissa. She found that for the most part, she rather liked Narcissa, despite her last name and painfully horrible lack of taste in men.  
  
Obviously, Ginny thought with a wry smile, Draco had inherited his personality from his father. Determined to put Blaise's predicament aside, the redhead jumped off her stool in search of the cellar.  
  
~*~  
  
If perfect could be characterized, then Blaise was positive that this night, she was it. Facing the mirror, Blaise was confident that should couldn't look any better, and nor could anyone else, for that matter. If Draco doesn't notice this, she told herself, he's either blind or gay.  
  
The dress was beautiful, a tempting, luscious indigo with a dipping neckline that spoke as an invitation itself. It tapered at her narrow waist and billowed out to just above mid-thigh in layers of silky slits that, if positioned the right way, showed off a shameful amount of bronzed skin. And just in case his eyes didn't catch the sight of her long, shapely legs, Blaise dragged out a pair of expensive black heels that were sure to accentuate her figure.  
  
Stepping into the shoes, she admired her reflection. "This is almost too easy," Blaise murmured appraisingly. Not to say that she wasn't pleased, but Zabinis did like a challenge now and then. But either way, it didn't matter because in the end she'd still get what she wanted; after all, tonight was a night nearly seven years in the making.  
  
It had been such an ordeal making sure that all the arrangements were perfect, and an even bigger hassle getting the servants out of the way. Remembering the nasty encounter with Adrienne in the kitchen, Blaise nearly shuddered. She hadn't expected the meek little thing to actually have acquaintenced herself with Weasley, let alone develop a protectiveness over her. Weasley, Blaise thought with distaste, crinkling her face at the mere image of the girl. Perhaps she should have kept the redhead; with Weasley around, the Gryffindor house would learn in no time that Draco and Blaise were finally together.  
  
Blaise shook her head. I did the right thing, she thought, getting rid of the Weasley girl. Imagining the fun she'd have with Draco, she decided that complete peace and solitude for this night was the right move indeed. A glance at the muggle clock by her bed reminded her that in twenty minutes, the dinner and champagne would be brought up to Draco's room. If she wanted to seduce him at all before they ate, she need to leave, now.  
  
One final toss of her thick black mane, and Blaise was ready.  
  
~*~  
  
A knock came at Draco's door, and he frowned. It wasn't the demure, apologetic rap that he heard from the servants, nor was it moderate and concerned like his mother. And remembering the feisty little scenario with the weasel, Draco knew it wouldn't be Ginny. Of course then, Draco deducted, it would have to be Blaise.  
  
She was interesting, really. He was far from blind; in fact, he'd realized sometime into his 3rd year that she was pining away for him, and found it rather amusing. Sure, she was beautiful, but the fact that she lusted after him nearly took all the appeal out of his game. It became obvious, needy, and at certain points even disgusting. Dating Blaise would have only ruined the desirable reputation Draco had worked so long and hard for. Like a game of quidditch, Draco refused to be the snitch that everyone caught; instead, he preferred to be the talented seeker that could grasp anything - or anyone - at any moment he wanted.  
  
"Draco!" Her voice was muffled through the door, but still undeniably impatient.  
  
"Coming!" He called out, forcing back a laugh as he made his way across the room and let her come storming into his room.  
  
"Do you always take that long?" Blaise huffed.  
  
Teasingly, he wiggled his eyebrows, eyeing the imperceptibly tiny number she was wearing appreciatively. "I don't know," he drawled, "maybe you should come to my room more and tell me."  
  
Her dark eyes widened with pleasant surprise and she slinked a little closer to him. Something told Draco that making her wait was just turning up the fire: the more she couldn't have him, the more she wanted him. And while he savored the idea of being untouchable, Blaise and what she was wearing, or rather not wearing, was admittedly tempting.  
  
"If that's what you want," Blaise responded, "I can't say that I mind."  
  
He cocked his head at her confident response, mentally agreeing that it was a very Blaise type of thing to say. He strolled past her to the sofa wordlessly and stared out the window, still smiling. "Always ready to please others, Blaise?"  
  
They stood in silence for a few moments, and then a husky voice came to the left of his ear. "What can I say?" Blaise responded throatily, "I was made to please." Her presence directly behind him was overbearing, and he could estimate that there was not more than a centimeter between them.  
  
"Oh?" He commented half-heartedly, eyes still fixated out the window.  
  
"Mm-hmm. You know, this house is so big," she said in what Draco guessed she projected as a sexy tone. "Don't you ever feel lonely?" Five slender fingers crawled around his shoulders and massaged his bicep with gentle pressure.  
  
Now he turned and gazed down at her, a smirk touching the corners of his mouth. "Who said I spend my days alone?"  
  
She smiled lazily, a plotting smile that rendered her much like that cat she was. "Well I promise," she said, pressing her lips to his, "that while I'm here, you'll never have to worry about being alone at night."  
  
He responded to the kiss with an expert ease, obviously from practice. Nearly mad with desire, Blaise placed both hands firmly on his chest and shoved him down onto the loveseat, her lips traveling all over his face and neck, as if she couldn't taste enough of him.  
  
As she nipped at his flesh, Draco felt an involuntary chill run down his spine, one quite plainly not procured from passion. I should be enjoying this, Draco told himself, but the acrid taste of unease could not be subdued by Blaise's butterfly-like kisses. Something wasn't right in the house, it was.too quiet. Suddenly, it struck him.  
  
Weasley.  
  
Immediately, his face contorted into a frown, that in such a moment Weasley should cross his mind. Evidently, he wasn't the only one who sensed something amiss, because Blaise withdrew from his lap and looked him hard in the face. "What's wrong?" she demanded softly, desparately keeping the frustration from soiling her voice.  
  
He said nothing at first, taking in her seductive gown, the thick curtain of black hair that hung partway over dark, mysterious eyes, wanting to slap himself for even thinking about the weasel; after all, most guys would die to be in his position. But I'm not most guys, he reminded himself, I'm Draco Malfoy. Shifting Blaise back onto the couch, he eased out from under her.  
  
She sat up immediately, no longer bothering to hide her displeasure. "Draco," she pouted, staring at him with dark, hurt eyes.  
  
"Blaise," he responded matter-of-factly, stalling for time as he tried to clear his head.  
  
"Come on, Draco," she purred, stroking his arm gently and crossing her legs so the hem of her skirt purposely fell to her hips. Bringing herself up as close to his face as humanly possible, she cooed in his ear, "We can make this night extremely fun."  
His frown grew deeper now. Was he actually feeling guilt for refusing her a vacation, he thought incredulously. No, it wasn't that. But something about the stillness of the house bothered him, and though it was a huge estate he could usually at least hear Ginny's pattering footsteps by his chamber. If any, his was the closest to the servant quarters.  
  
The more Draco contemplated it, the more restless he became. He in fact hadn't spoken to her since their afternoon confrontation, and was used to insulting her at least five times a day. No, something was definitely wrong if she didn't barge in and try to ruin his life. But in all honestly, he thought, did it really matter? This was Weasley they were talking about, and one less Weasley in his life wasn't exactly a matter to be sobbing over.  
  
"It's quiet," he said finally, "that's all."  
  
Her expression visibly softened, and she nuzzled him gently. "Is that all?" she whispered, lips seeking his jawline.  
  
Before he could answer, a knock resounded at the door, and Draco jumped up, sending Blaise tumbling to the ground. "Uh, come in," he said frantically, looking up to see his mother eyeing them strangely.  
  
"Draco," she said calmly, glancing between her son and the scantily- clad girl sitting dazedly on his floor. She would have made another comment, but remembering how Lucius had stressed the importance of Malfoy- Zabini relations, refrained from doing so. As much as she loved her son, she was slightly pleased that she had interrupted whatever moment they may have been having.  
  
"Mother," Draco said quickly as Blaise reached to tug down her dress, "we were just talking."  
  
"Of course, dear," Narcissa replied with a condoning smile. "I actually had a question, well, rather a problem. You see, I asked that Weasley maid to bring a bottle of wine up to my room for the Brenners nearly an hour ago, and she still hasn't showed."  
  
Draco paled slightly, the uncertainty he had been feeling moments earlier flooding back to him. I knew something wasn't right, he thought. By now, Blaise had helped herself up, no thanks to Draco, and she asked rather stiffly, "What do you think happened?"  
  
"I don't know," Narcissa shrugged, "But I need my wine."  
  
"Maybe she was astounded by all the expensive wine," Blaise sneered.  
  
"We should go check," Draco said suddenly, earning two sets of surprised stares. "No really," he urged, "I have a bad feeling about this."  
  
Blaise arched an eyebrow at him. "Is that what you were thinking about a few minutes ago? Weasley?"  
  
He ignored her. "I think," he said coolly, "that something has happened to the weasel. Think of the bad publicity we'd receive if word came out that under our care, a maid was injured, or worse, that she perished."  
  
"Oh yes, worse," Blaise sniggered under her breath.  
  
"I think we should go check," Narcissa agreed worriedly, oblivious to the half-angry stares Blaise was sending towards her son. "Because first of all, I need my wine, and secondly, I don't think this maid would have forgotten. Miss Weasley seeems rather capable, actually."  
  
Blaise stifled a laugh.  
  
"I'll do it," Draco assured her, "you just return to your room and get some rest. I'll see to it that the wine is sent up."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Positive."  
  
"I'll go with you," Blaise piped up.  
  
Draco flashed Blaise a tight, restrained smile before turning back to his mother. "You'll get your wine, and I'll make sure everyone in this house is okay," he promised, gently ushering Narcissa down the hall.  
  
~*~  
  
The wine cellar was one of the many compartments that existed below ground level at the Malfoy Manor. It was originally built as part of a dungeon, but through his dealings with muggles, Lucius had received many bottles of wine that he never depleted, and they remained in the cool temperature of the cellar. Being two stories down, Draco needed to access the cellar door somewhere in the cold stone basement.  
  
Draco had only been in the cellar once, mostly because he took no interest in Muggle wine, and found it ridiculous that his death eater father would keep them anyhow. And now, making his way down the damp stone steps, he could see that the cellar had been deprived of visitors for a while.  
  
Beside him, Blaise whimpered slightly. This was a bad idea, she thought, scolding herself for her eagerness to be with Draco. The beautiful night was ruined, and what would have happened back in his room she would now never know. And on the way down, he'd had no tolerance for her complaints despite it being unnaturally cold below the estate. The two stood in the hollow cave of the basement, eyes scanning around the room.  
  
"Here's the door," Draco said suddenly, obviously pleased that he'd found it. "This door leads down to the wine cellar, if I remember correctly."  
  
"I think she was here," Blaise murmured, feigning fear for an excuse to grasp his arm. "The door's open."  
  
Draco reached for the door, and furrowed his eyebrows as he stared down the dark length of the steps. "Lumos," he commanded, a light appearing immediately. Returning to the door, he prepared to step down but then his jaw dropped open, and he stared, speechless, at the sight before him.  
  
"What is it?" Blaise demanded curiously, craning her neck around him so she could glimpse whatever it was that could have ruffled Draco Malfoy. Her eyes grew wide in horror, and she let out a yelp.  
  
A trail of dark red liquid dripped meticulously down the steps, pooling to a lifeless form that lay undoubtedly unconsciously at the bottom, red hair spread out wildly about, hair that could signify only one person.  
  
Ginny.  
  
A/N* haha I'm evil so I'm going to stop here ^_^ I usually update every few days, but as you all know ffnet kind of freaked out and refused updates, so ya. But I'll try to have the next chapter up within the next week, given the server doesn't spaz out again. 


	6. The Plan Part II: Explained

A/N* Again, thanks to everyone who has been R/R!! Joycie ~ don't worry the WAFF moments are coming lol. Hmm I try to update every few days but I have a lotta stuff going on this weekend so I'd say to expect Chapter 7 to be up around Monday or Tuesday. Anywaze I'm guessing you probably want to know what happened to Ginny and why it happened so here it is ~ Chapter 6! (btw I know this is a slightly shorter chapter but the next one will be longer, I promise)  
  
Chapter 6. The Plan, Part II (Explained)  
  
Ginny.  
  
Draco stared, frozen rigid in horror, as her name resounded in his head over and over again. She can't be dead, he thought frantically. But the body slumped in a pool of dark red still yet refused to move. Suddenly, guilt coursed through him, for all the times he'd insulted her, for refusing her vacation, and he felt the energy drain out of him.  
  
Quickly, Draco strode down the steps to where Ginny was lying and turned her over tenderly. Her pale, freckled face beamed up at him, a small, almost half-smile upon her lips despite the fact that her eyes were closed. Kneeling beside her, he gathered the limp girl in his arms, and then suddenly, he drew in his breath sharply, nearly dropping her.  
  
She was still warm.  
  
"It's not blood." Blaise's voice cut into his thoughts from above. He whipped around, watching as she peered at the red liquid on the steps. She dipped her finger in it and sniffed cautiously, adding, "Actually, I do believe its wine."  
  
His fingers sought out her pulse. "She's not dead," Draco realized, letting out a breath of relief he never remember holding. "She must have dropped the wine and rolled down with it or something," he deduced, his gaze traveling over the remnants of the glass bottle lying beside her.  
  
"Oh, I'm disappointed," Blaise remarked with a sneer, earning a nasty glare from Draco.  
  
"This is not the time for that, Zabini," he growled, and she stiffened. Draco never referred to her or the other Slytherin females by their last names; he reserved that for Weasley.  
  
"It doesn't matter," she rolled her eyes, "the bloody weasel's not even dead."  
  
Gritting his teeth, Draco hoisted her body up into his arms and made his way out of the wine cellar. "I think Marion worked as one of those muggle nurses, if I'm not mistaken," he said to nobody in particular, "she can look over Gin- Weasley." And then he turned towards Blaise, narrowed his steely silver gaze at her. "And as for you," he said calmly, "I wouldn't be surprised if you had something to do with why she fell down the stairs."  
  
Blaise gawked.  
  
~*~  
  
Marion was a heavyset woman, in her late forties or early fifties, definitely old enough for it to be impolite to ask of her age. Her hair was once brown, now it was tinged with stray hairs of gray, and her eyes a sparkling blue, surrounded with laugh lines. She really had quite a matronly appeal about her, and she was extremely careful in the examination of Ginny.  
  
The muggle clock beside her ticked ostentatiously, and Draco watched, almost nervously, as Marion inspected the girl. Blaise watched Draco, naturally, expressions flitting across her face interchangeably. If he had bothered to look at her, he would've been rather perplexed, but as it was, Draco was concentrated on the two maids.  
  
Marion stood up, and Draco tensed. "What is it?" He demanded, standing up quickly. Marion bit her lip, toyed with her hair, all but looked him in the eye. "What is it?" he repeated, more harshly this time.  
  
"She seems to be asleep," Marion finally said in bewilderment.  
  
He frowned. "Asleep?"  
  
She nodded meekly. "I know it sounds ridiculous, sir, but-"  
  
"You mean to tell me that Miss Weasley fell down a flight of stairs because she fell asleep?" Draco nearly shouted, incredulous.  
  
Marion winced, realizing how ridiculous it sounded. "Yes?" she offered.  
  
"What do you take me for, some bloody idiot?" Draco bellowed, causing the elder woman to shrink back immediately.  
  
Blaise was suddenly at his side, her fingers on his shoulders as she cooed in his ear, "Draco, nobody takes you for an idiot."  
  
He shrugged off her touch. "It doesn't make sense," he said darkly, "that someone would fall asleep whilst walking up the stairs."  
  
"It wouldn't happen," Marion agreed, "unless, that is, of course. . ." She drifted off, glancing between the two wealthy Slytherins uncertainly.  
  
"Unless what?" Draco prompted.  
  
"Unless something, or someone, caused her to fall asleep," Marion finished in a small voice. Draco knitted his eyes together in confused disbelief, and she rushed to add, "It's possible, you know."  
  
"Do explain," Draco said, more calmly now and with a hint of interest in his voice.  
  
"You see, when I worked in the muggle hospitals, there were these drugs the doctors administered - they're called sedatives, really, and they put people to sleep temporarily. The strongest of these drugs can cause sleep to come extremely suddenly, as I would guess with Miss Weasley here," Marion explained. "She should wake up tomorrow morning."  
  
"Will she be fine, then?" he asked.  
  
"Oh she should be perfectly fine," Marion assured, "Unless she hit or head when she fell. And I have this potion here just to make sure she hasn't suffered from head trauma or anything, but-" she hesitated.  
  
"But?"  
  
"It needs to be administered every two hours," Marion finished. Her eyes darted furtively around the room, from Draco's contemplative expression to Blaise's impatient tapping.  
  
"Nobody has time for that," Blaise snarled, "Imagine! Staying up to make sure that the Weasel is okay."  
  
"Have you no compassion?" Marion asked in a surge of courage.  
  
Blaise's eyes narrowed. "Why you-"  
  
From the couch, Ginny stirred. "Hold me," she murmured, voice thick with sleep. "Don't go, don't go."  
  
"Dreaming about Potter again," Blaise commented wickedly. Draco shot her a pointed look, and she dropped her gaze.  
  
"Well somebody needs to be there to make sure that-"  
  
"I'll do it," Draco interrupted smoothly.  
  
"Draco!" Blaise protested in shock.  
  
He ignored her, once again. "Have her cleaned," he instructed, "and bring her up to my room. I'll perform a cleaning spell on my sheets, and she can stay there for tonight."  
  
"I'll be on it right away, sir," Marion promised, a smile lighting up her face.  
  
Blaise, indignant, opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly cut off as Adrienne rushed through the door, flinging herself at Ginny's side. "Ginny!" she cried. "Oh, this is all my fault!"  
  
Surprise flashed through Draco's eyes, but he shielded all emotion immediately. "All your fault?"  
  
Adrienne turned her watery gaze upon him, sniffling as she nodded. "I should have told her," she murmured, more to herself than him. "Then this wouldn't have happened, she would have been watching out for herself, and she wouldn't be," Adrienne paused, choking on the last word, "dead."  
  
"My dear," Marion interjected, "Miss Weasley is not dead. She's actually asleep. The red - that's wine."  
  
A thick silence hung in the room as Adrienne processed her words, a stunned look overcoming her face, followed by a quick flash of relief. "Asleep?"  
  
"Muggle drugs," Marion said simply.  
  
"It's not my fault then," Adrienne whispered to Ginny.  
  
Blaise snorted.  
  
It seemed to trigger a sudden bout of anger in Adrienne, and the girl flew into a rage, launching herself on top of Blaise. "You could have killed her!" Adrienne shrieked, clawing wildly at the Slytherin.  
  
"Get. Her. Off. Of. Me!" Blaise screamed as Adrienne's weight knocked both of them to the ground. Marion rushed forward, grasped Adrienne's waist with two sturdy hands, and pried the enraged servant away from Blaise, who sputtered, gingerly touching a hand to her quickly swelling cheek. "Who the hell do you think you are?" Blaise yelled.  
  
"You could have killed her!" Adrienne kept shrieking, desperately trying to free herself of Marion's grip.  
  
Draco stepped in between them, narrowed his eyes. "You say that Blaise could have killed Weasley," he stated.  
  
"Yes!" Adrienne screamed loudly, still thrashing.  
  
He glowered at Blaise. "Would you care to explain this?" He asked, his voice calm but tinged with menace.  
  
"I will," Adrienne interrupted, green eyes flashing indignantly. "I'm not afraid of you anymore, Blaise, not after what happened here." Ceasing her futile punches to the air, Adrienne shot her a venomous stare. "Basically, I walk in on this little whore slipping muggle drugs into the water in the kitchen," she declared, "and the simple ending is that Ginny drank that water. I don't know what's wrong with Ginny right now, but I know that she was drugged, she was poisoned, and she wouldn't be lying here like this if it wasn't for Miss Zabini."  
  
Blaise turned to leave, but Draco grabbed her forearm tightly and spun her around in front of him, his glare demanding an explanation. She breathed deeply, wrenching away from Draco and eyeing Adrienne, who had by now been released from Marion's tight grasp and was watching her demise with great amusement. "Um, well, I wanted some time for us to be alone," she started uncomfortably, "I just thought it would be better if the servants weren't in the way, and the water that one maid left out was just sitting in the kitchen, for anyone to take. I suppose Ginny was the only one who actually drank the water."  
  
Her eyes filling with tears that even Draco suspected weren't real, Blaise moved closer to him. "You don't understand," she said huskily, "All I've ever wanted was you and I just wanted this night to be perfect for you, for us."  
  
"I see. And what exactly did you expect to happen tonight?" Draco said, almost curiously.  
  
"Well," Blaise faked a blush, "you know." She paused, trying to adopt a more serious attitude. "I didn't expect anything to happen to the weasel, surely you know that," she continued softly, fingers traveling across his chest. "I just wanted her to fall asleep, and stay out of our way. Her falling down the stairs, it just happened, I guess."  
  
"You guess? You bloody guess?" Adrienne shouted, rushing at Blaise before Marion could hold her back. This time, however, Marion didn't react, either because she too was fed up with Blaise, or maybe because she saw no use in protecting against Adrienne.  
  
"Stop! Stop!" Blaise screamed, shoving Adrienne off of her and scrambling to her feet, one of the dress straps falling off her shoulder as she glowered at the servant. "Draco, aren't you going to do something about this?" She demanded angrily. He raised an eyebrow at her, not even bothering to help her up, and she added with a roll of her eyes, "Fire her! Get rid of her!"  
  
"You want me to get rid of her."  
  
"No shit, Sherlock," Blaise said sarcastically. "Look at what she did to me!"  
  
"Maybe you should poison her water," he said in a tone that doubled hers in sarcasm. He stepped around the fallen girl and moved to stride out the door.  
  
"Draco!" Blaise cried, reaching out for his leg to stop him from leaving.  
  
"And by the way, Zabini," he said evenly, twisting away and spinning around so she could very well see the seriousness in his face, "I will be expecting you out of the house by this time tomorrow, are we clear?"  
  
Her face paled visibly. "What?"  
  
"Tomorrow, this time," he repeated, "I want you to out of my house."  
  
"You're kicking me out?" Blaise said in disbelief.  
  
"If that's how you want to look at it."  
  
"But Draco," Blaise sputtered, "I don't understand."  
  
"Oh," he smirked, "you know we Malfoys don't appreciate bad publicity. I know you're not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I'm sure you, of all people, can see where I'm coming from."  
  
She gasped, but before she could answer, Draco had disappeared. "Damn you!" She screamed after his retreating figure.  
  
Adrienne laughed.  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny stirred, not quite wanting to wake up. It felt like she had been asleep for decades now, dreams flitting through her head. Nestled among the smooth sheets and thick pillows, Ginny felt more comfortable than she'd ever before. It must be another dream, she told herself thickly, glancing down at the exquisite white silk nightgown through heavily lidded eyes. The last one had been quite pleasant, actually. She dimly recalled a pair of strong arms holding her close, warmth radiating from whoever it was.  
  
A few years ago, Ginny would have imagined that it was Harry, but now, realizing once again that she was indeed, completely over him, a satisfied smile spread across her face. Dreamily, she trailed a finger along the silky silver embroidery of the emerald green comforter. Green? A small alarm went off in her head. But the blankets in her small servant quarters were a stark white. Startled, she sat up. Eyes wide, she stared in awe at the enormous windows, the velvet curtains, the portrait that sat in the corner of the magnificent room, and it dawned on her.  
  
She was in Draco Malfoy's room. Worse, she was in his bed.  
  
~ End of Chapter 6 


	7. The Eyes Have It

Disclaimer: The standard.nothing is mine except the plot and a few characters (the ones you don't recognize, obviously, like Adrienne, and Marion, and whichever others that have or will appear.) Btw I totally forgot to do the disclaimer, and I'm way too lazy to go back and edit each of the previous six chapters and then upload them, one by one, so lets just pretend that they have a disclaimer, okie? ^_^  
  
A/N* silverallie ~ Here I have to clarify. Before the fifth book, Blaise was actually only mentioned once, and that's in the first book during the sorting in which the gender was never specified. And while I know that the name is one originally derived from a French male, it's been commonly used for women over the ages. The very first fanfic I read with Blaise as a character (Serpent's Bride. . . a VERY good one, btw) used the Slytherin as a female. So the only way we would know for sure of Blaise's gender is if it was specified in book five, which, consequently, I've not finished reading. But even if book five revealed that Blaise is indeed a he, I can't change my writing now. Many fics do portray Blaise as female, mine included. ^_^  
  
Chapter 7. The Eyes Have It  
  
The realization hit her flat in the face, like a bucket of icy water.  
  
She was in Draco Malfoy's bed.  
  
Alarmed, Ginny was about to jump out of the bed and demand to know if he had taken advantage of her when she realized that he wasn't in the bed. In fact, he was lying rather contentedly on the chaise across the room. Even in sleep, he looked impassive, Ginny noticed with a small smile. Possibilities spun through her mind, and Ginny decided that she must have fallen asleep on the job. I guess he's not that heartless, she thought with surprise, crawling out from under the covers as gingerly as possible.  
  
The velvety emerald blanket slung across him was nearly sliding off, and as she made her way to the door a flash of maternal instinct stopped her. Something told her it would be best to dash out of the room before he awoke, but for some inexplicable reason she made her way over to where his still form was resting. She was just going to keep the blanket from falling to the floor, Ginny told herself, so if Draco had indeed helped her in any way, which was a thought so preposterous she wanted to laugh, then Ginny wouldn't feel guilty.  
  
What she hadn't taken into account, however, was the small round table at the foot of the chaise, and she winced in pain as her toes made contact with the hard wood. "Blimey!" She cried before she could stop herself, grabbing her foot and hopping up and down.  
  
"You know, you make such a racket waking up they can probably still hear you back at Hogwarts."  
  
Ginny froze.  
  
Draco's eyes opened slowly, focusing his stony gray gaze on her, but she could swear there was a twinkle of humor. He seemed slightly more relaxed, maybe due to the tiredness reflected in his eyes. And he didn't seem to be mocking her this time; his tone of voice had actually been teasing, and maddeningly soft, and it surprised her, astonished her, knocking her speechless so all she could do was stand and stare like a bloody idiot.  
  
Realizing that she was in a position which rendered her much like a stork, Ginny released her ankle and took a step forward hesitantly. It was, however, a bad move, because her foot caught on the beautiful persian rug, sending her sprawling across the chaise and into his lap.  
  
His hands caught her for the second time that summer, steadied her, the touch burning as she raised her head to look into his face, half- expecting Blaise to barge in like last time. "We have to stop meeting like this," Draco murmured hoarsely, his voice thick with longing and his breath tickling her ear, causing her own breath to catch in her throat.  
  
A rush of feelings flooded through her; first confusion because he had yet to push her away, then a strange excitement that he hadn't, then more confusion because she liked the way his arms wrapped around her waist so perfectly, and lastly surprise, because in the depths of his eyes she saw mirrored the exact same thoughts. Her heart was pounding so hard drums resounded in her head, and given the silence of the chamber and the proximity of their bodies, she was positive Draco could hear it.  
  
Draco moved his neck slightly, closing the last few centimeters between their faces, and gently pressed his lips to hers. The touch shocked Ginny, stars exploding in her head and shivers tingling down her spine, the same intensity of emotion boiling in the pit of her stomach as it always did around him.  
  
But this time, it wasn't hate. It was far from hate.  
  
He ran one hand through the soft curtain of red hair as he deepened the kiss, so concentrated on how right she felt he stopped thinking about the fact that this was Ginny Weasley he was snogging. She fit into his body so smoothly like a ball in a glove, complenting, filling, completing him, and he could believe, if briefly, that her sole existance had been created for him, for this moment.  
  
Something inside Ginny's head reminded her that this was Malfoy whose lips were moving across hers, whose fingers were tracing circles through the thin silk of her nightgown. She should have panicked, she should have thought about all the times he'd ruined her life and all the evil things she'd wished his way. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to tear away from his searing kisses, and she didn't want to.  
  
And then it stopped.  
  
Draco had pulled back, Ginny realized, and she sat limp, missing the warmth of his body and hating herself for wanting more. They were both suddenly immensely aware that she was still nestled in his lap, and he stared pointedly at her, his mouth set in a grim line. Embarassed, she scrambled off and landed awkwardly on the far end of the chaise.  
  
They sat looking at each other for a few moments, neither daring to speak the first word. Neither wanted to acknowledge to each other what had just happened, and neither wanted to admit to themselves how much they had enjoyed it. His breath was ragged - with what, Ginny still wasn't sure - and the fire that she'd seen seconds ago had now extinguished, leaving those steely gray eyes again cold and blank.  
  
"I-I-I'm sorry." Ginny said lamely, for lack of better things to say in the unbearable silence.  
  
He eyed her, thoughts masked behind an expressionless face. "What for?" He said shortly, his voice not gentle nor teasing as it had been.  
  
"This. That." She stumbled over her words, feeling the heated blush that had touched her cheeks.  
  
He leaned back and continued to survey her, a dim interest shining through his half-lidded eyes. His gaze settled surreptiously on her lips, and for a fleeting, shamefully hopeful moment Ginny thought he wanted to kiss her again. Instead, his mouth curved into a broad, flat smile, and he chuckled mirthlessly. "Liked that, did you?" He snickered.  
  
The moment was most definitely ruined. "Don't flatter yourself," Ginny lied, trying to inject as much hate as she possibly could that moment. He raised his eyebrows at her, challenging her word silently. She blushed once again, and broke the gaze, wanting to contradict his egotistical assumptions but somehow not finding her voice.  
  
"I don't have to," he said smoothly, "if you're planning to do it for me."  
  
"Why don't we just forget this happened," Ginny interrupted, refusing to look at him. Disturbed by the calmness of his demeanor, she added for good measure, "You mindless prat."  
  
He stood up, tossing the blankets half-heartedly to the floor. "Good," he sneered. "I've already started. Now while I go wash out my mouth, its time for you to start cleaning my room."  
  
The door slam echoed in the now empty chamber, and Ginny sat alone and confused, wanting to sob, laugh, and retch all at the same time.  
  
She opted for laughing.  
  
~*~  
  
"Ginny!"  
  
Adrienne had never been so glad to see her fellow maid. She flung her arms around the redhead the moment Ginny returned from Draco's chamber, nearly toppling them both to the floor. "I was so worried about you," she cried, her voice muffled.  
  
Laughing, Ginny retracted herself from Adrienne's embrace. "It's nice to see you too," she said. "Care to tell me why I deserve such a warm welcome?"  
  
Adrienne's eyes widened. "Last night," she reminded.  
  
"Ah yes," Ginny smiled, relieved that she didn't have to ask Draco for an explanation. "See, I'm still not clear on what happened."  
  
"Didn't Young Master Malfoy tell you?" Adrienne knitted her thin eyebrows in confusion.  
  
"Not exactly," Ginny answered uncomfortably.  
  
"Oh dear," Adrienne pressed two hands to her cheeks in mock disgust, immediately setting Ginny at ease and causing her to giggle. "Well, we have a lot to talk about, in that case."  
  
~*~  
  
Draco paced restlessly in his study, the events of that morning replaying themselves in his mind incessantly. He, Draco Malfoy, had snogged Ginny Weasley. And what was worse, he had initiated it.  
  
Stopping and picking up a smooth glass paperweight, he fumbled with it, glaring at the two silver eyes reflected back at him. They were nothing like her eyes, the warm cocoa flecked with gold, and he nearly smiled thinking about them. He inhaled deeply, remembering how clean she had smelled, and how soft her skin had been, and groaned, wishing for someone to interrupt him or something to think about so he wouldn't have to face the truth.  
  
The truth was, Draco had enjoyed the kiss.  
  
"No!" Draco shouted, slamming his fist down onto the table, paperweight tumbling to the ground. She was not only a Gryffindor, she was a Weasley. And girls, especially Weasleys, were not supposed to affect the way he thought in any manner. He was a man, wasn't he? That must have been it, he had responded the way any normal male would have. No, he thought desparately, the kiss had not affected him at all. It couldn't have. He wouldn't let it.  
  
He would just have to make sure something like that never happened again, Draco decided. And somehow, he'd have to make it clear to the weasel that what had happened was purely a mistake, and one he most definitely did not plan on making again.  
  
~*~  
  
"And then, Blaise had to reveal that she was the one who drugged the water," Adrienne exclaimed, nearly doubling over in laughter. "The look on that little whore's face was priceless!"  
  
Ginny smiled feebly. She was settled cross-legged on Adrienne's bed, listening to a detailed explanation of the previous night's events. "I knew Blaise had it for Malfoy," she said with a forced laugh, "but I never knew she had it that bad."  
  
"Yes well, it seems they were getting pretty frisky," Adrienne chuckled, "if you know what I mean. And she seemed mad as hell that Young Master Malfoy gave a damn about what happened to you."  
  
"He was putting on a show," Ginny said quickly.  
  
"Well, you do know him better than me," Adrienne commented, curiously noticing the younger girl's reddening cheeks.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.  
  
Adrienne shot her a strange look. "It means," she said, slow and deliberate, "that since you attend school with Master Malfoy, you would obviously know him better than I do."  
  
"Oh." Ginny couldn't bring herself to look Adrienne in the eye.  
  
"But anyways, her outfit!" Adrienne continued, eagerly changing the subject, "I have never seen a smaller dress."  
  
Though she hadn't been there to witness the spectacle, Ginny could imagine. She didn't particularly want to, but Adrienne's extremely elaborate description didn't leave her much room to think otherwise. "She's a witch," she recovered, "so she totally deserves Malfoy."  
  
"You really hate him," Adrienne noted.  
  
"No shit," Ginny agreed vehemently. He was such a git, she thought angrily, trying vainly to forget their early morning encounter, and so full of himself, too, thinking he could make any girl succumb to her knees. She herself was glad that Malfoy's so-called charms never had any effect on her.  
  
Then why did the idea of Malfoy and Blaise together bother her so much?  
  
~*~  
  
Draco sank into the soft leather of his chair, rubbing his temples with slender fingers. What he needed was time alone, away from Blaise, away from his mother, and most of all, away from Ginny. "I can't fire her," he muttered darkly, heaving a deep sigh, "so I can't exactly get rid of her."  
  
Suddenly, an idea clicked in his head and he sat up sharply, a smile creasing his face. "That's it!" He cried. "Draco Malfoy, you are truly brilliant." Sending Ginny on her much-wanted vacation was the perfect solution: he could show her that the kiss had meant nothing to him, and at the same time achieve peace and tranquility at the manor.  
  
Wait, Draco stopped himself, incredibly disappointed with the glitch that had appeared. If he granted Ginny her wish, it would only seem that he had indeed developed some feelings for her, wouldn't it? What I need to do, he thought, is find an excuse to have the home to myself. He glared into his reflection, practicing what to say. "I need time with . . ." he trailed off, desparately searching for a name to fill the blank. Blaise? No, she had already left that morning, and he couldn't exactly ask her back, not that he wanted to.  
  
But Ginny didn't know that.  
  
It was a fool-proof plan, a win-win situation that Draco was positive couldn't go wrong. In fact, he'd go find the weasel right this moment to break the news. Naturally, he thought smugly, she'd be excited at first, probably grateful, and while he savored the idea of her in debt to him, he knew by the time she left the Weasley-Malfoy hatred would be high as ever.  
  
So what if he was sending her to the waiting arms of Harry Potter?  
  
~*~  
  
"So that's basically why you woke up where you did," Adrienne finished with a shake of her head, "But I was really so terrified that something had happened to you, I mean, when I saw you lying there on the couch not moving I seriously thought you were dead. And I could never let myself live with that if you really had died, it would have been all my fault."  
  
"But I'm not dead," Ginny reassured, "and it wouldn't have been your fault anyhow."  
  
"And I really am sorry I didn't tell you earlier," Adrienne went on, "but Blaise scared the bloody hell out of me."  
  
"She has a way of doing that," Ginny agreed. Then she frowned. "But wait, where is she now? She must be asleep, because it's been awfully quiet all day."  
  
Adrienne was cut off by a sharp, nearly angry knock on the door. "Weasley?" An icy male voice demanded, "Are you in there?"  
  
Smiling apologetically at Adrienne, Ginny leapt off the bed and opened the door, wishing that his loose slacks and heather sweater didn't make him look so damn breathtakingly good. "What do you want, Malfoy," she snarled, every bit as domineering as he had been.  
  
He glanced between the two maids, and beckoned towards the hall. "Out there," he directed, "then we'll talk."  
  
Not really having a choice, she followed him obediantly through the servant quarters and into the open foyer, never failing to notice the beauty and elegance that Malfoy Manor projected. Her observations, however, overlooked the fact that he had stopped and whipped around, propelling her into his chest.  
  
"Watch where you're going," he said, glowering at where her hands had rested against him, his words bitter and sneering but the look in his eyes not so quite this time.  
  
She stepped back quickly, a little too quickly, her pride causing the automatic apology to catch in her throat. "Don't blame me for your mistakes," she spat, crossing her arms across her chest and shooting him her meanest scowl.  
  
He looked down, almost amusedly, at the fiery redhead ready and willing to attack him like a pitbull on its haunches. "Calm down," he smirked.  
  
"Just tell me what you want," she scowled, no doubt ruffled by his collected conduct.  
  
"Well, Weasley," he put an unneccessary emphasis on her last name and continued slightly hurriedly, "I've decided that you can take the little vacation you wanted, and I'm going to give you a whole week off; it doesn't violate the contract, I checked. I could do with some peace around this place."  
  
She stared at him, disbelieving and utterly stunned. "Oh Malfoy!" was all she could say.  
  
A stupid, childish smile spread across her face, causing him to demand, "What?"  
  
"I was wrong," Ginny said wryly in a tone laced with gentle humor, "I guess you do have a heart."  
  
He almost laughed at her words. He wanted to really, from the way her freckled nose was crinkled from that big, lopsided grin and the frank nature of her voice. But then she stepped a bit closer to him as if to hug him, close enough for him to smell the girlish scent of her peach shampoo, and all his earlier resolve came flooding back, cold yet strangely unwelcome.  
  
He stiffened, setting possibly the nastiest expression upon his face and striding away. The smile was immediately displaced. He wanted so much to hold her in his arms again, to kiss the frown off her face, but he couldn't. He was a Malfoy, damnit, and she was a Weasley, and nothing would ever change that. He knew painfully well that the more he distanced himself from the temptation that was her, the better.  
  
"I'm not Potter," he said snidely, meeting her confused face with a chillingly calm fire gleaming in his own. "So don't even try. Just go home to your little scarheaded boyfriend."  
  
"He's not my boyfriend," Ginny said in the smallest voice.  
  
"Does it look like I care? Just leave," Draco snarled.  
  
"Why?" Ginny shot back, her face a flaming red from frustration and confusion, the hurt rapidly transforming to anger. "You want to spend time alone shagging your precious Blaise?"  
  
He blinked at her for a moment, her words registering in his mercury eyes. He hadn't expected her to be the protagonist of his ingenious plan. "Yes," he finally said harshly, still glaring down at her. "And you want to know why? Because she's nothing like you. She's everything you'll never be, you little brat, and-"  
  
His tirade of insults ended abruptly when a loud smack echoed through the room, as Ginny's flat palm connected hard with the soft flesh of his cheek. He gaped wordlessly, stretching his jaw to make sure it was still connected and touching the swelling skin, angered that she had slapped him and grudgingly in admiration that she had the courage to do so.  
  
Ginny stepped back, hurt flashing across her face as her eyes swelled with tears she didn't want to even form. This was Malfoy, after all. Expecting anything humane coming from Draco was really too much to ask, Ginny told herself, silently berating herself for the kiss that had happened that morning, more for actually enjoing it. "Consider me gone," she said shortly, trying to hide her crestfallen expression. "I'll be back in a week, even though I never want to see your ferret face again." Choking back a sniffle, she turned on her heel and fled.  
  
Silently, he watched her leave, satisfied that he had finally pushed her away. But if anyone else had been watching, they'd have seen something else in the murky gray depths of his eyes.  
  
Pain.  
  
~End of Chapter 7  
  
A/N* AHHH ITS TURNING ANGSTY!  
  
Acknowledgements at the end because SOME PEOPLE (hint hint vicky even tho I luv u) don't like them at the beginning.  
  
Btw aj ~ haha sorry to disappoint you, but there's going to be some heavy H/Hr/R in the next chapter lol . . . but don't worry, its still a DG fic which means that a majority will be Draco/Ginny, but I figure that since I brought the infamous trio into the first chapter, they have to reappear sometime, right? Vivaciously ~ oui, je regrette, it is a DG fic (as you've probably figured out by now) Vicky ~ less dialogue, sorta? Joycie ~ don't forget, we are so going to corrupt him Beth ~ Wish we coulda had DM day! Kristie ~ good luck with your surgery, thanks for all your help ^_^  
  
Muah to all my excellent reviewers  
  
Hope you all had fun reading OoTP! 


	8. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Disclaimer: All belongs to J.K Rowling minus the plot and a few things here and there  
  
A/N* Btw, Blaise's gender isn't revealed in the 5th book, so its plausible for Zabini to be a girl ::jumps up and down in joy:: ^_^  
  
Chapter 8. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder  
  
"Sticks and stones can break your bones, but words can hurt like hell."  
- Chuck Palahuit, Lullaby  
  
~*~  
  
She's everything you'll never be, you little brat.  
  
She's everything you'll never be, you little brat.  
  
She's everything you'll never be, you little brat.  
  
Ginny stumbled out onto the front steps of Malfoy Manor, determined to hold back the tears that threatened to stream down her face any minute now. Damn that Malfoy, she thought angrily, damn him to hell. She had been so sure that he was ready to kiss her back in the living room, and she had been so ready to accept that maybe he had changed.  
  
Face it, Ginny told herself miserably, you're letting yourself become afflicted by someone without a heart, a death eater no less. She was glad he had granted her the vacation, because now she needed it more than ever. What she needed was a strong dose of home remedy, and most of all, to be away from him.  
  
I don't care about him, she thought stubbornly. "My god," she said aloud wonderously, "Get yourself together. You've never lost control over your hate for Malfoy." Shaking her head and inhaling a gust of clean, fresh air, Ginny made her way off the estate.  
  
She never even noticed the pair of mercury eyes watching her from the second floor window.  
  
~*~  
  
Even though the luxury of Malfoy Manor had impressed her greatly, Ginny couldn't possibly have been more glad to be home. Hermione enveloped the younger girl in a suffocating hug the moment she stepped through the door, a giant smile taking up half her face.  
  
"Ginny!" She declared happily, merriment reflected all over her rosy face. "Oh Gin, how've you been?"  
  
Besides the dull ache of heartbreak for someone I absolutely loathe but can't stop thinking about? Ginny thought ruefully. "Glad to be home," she replied with a deep breath, pushing all thoughts of Malfoy out of her mind.  
  
"We knew that," Ron said jovially, slinging a heavy arm around her, "But really, how's my favorite sister?"  
  
"Ron," Ginny reminded, "I'm your only sister."  
  
Laugh lines creased the corners of his sparkling brown eyes. "Well that bloody well makes you my favorite sister then, doesn't it?" He replied easily.  
  
"And it makes you my favorite female Weasley," Harry chimed in, appearing suddenly between Ron and Hermione and enfolding Ginny in a gentle embrace. "I'm glad you're back," he whispered in her ear. Stepping back, he added with a devilish twinkle in his bright green eyes, "Who, I might add, never fulfilled her promise to owl me."  
  
Ginny turned red. "It's true," she admitted to a laughing Hermione, "I've been busy."  
  
"Oh Gods, I can imagine," Ron said darkly, "Malfoy doesn't seem like the best person to be working for."  
  
"People sometimes change," Harry said, his words directed at Ron but his stare boring deep into an uncomfortable Hermione. "Maybe Malfoy is sorry for what he's done, maybe he wants to make amends."  
  
Hermione flushed, returning his gaze. "Well maybe Ginny has moved on. Maybe he lost his chance ages ago, and maybe now she's happy that they aren't friends and wants to keep it that way," she retorted.  
  
Ron glanced briefly between Harry and Hermione, oblivious to the secretive exchange going on presently. "What the hell are you two talking about? You know we hate Malfoy, and he hates us as well," he exclaimed. "I swear," he said to Ginny, "they've been acting strange ever since you left."  
  
"I can believe it," Ginny said pointedly.  
  
Harry cleared his throat self-consciously. "Sorry, Ron, don't know what came over me. I didn't mean to suggest that Malfoy is actually, you know, not evil."  
  
"Damn right you didn't," Ron sniffed sourily, pursing his lips merely from thought of the blond-haired Slytherin.  
  
"He's actually not that bad," Ginny said absent-mindedly, distracted by the high tension running between her former crush and his former girlfriend. Seeing the horrified expression on her brother's face, she amended, "As a boss, that is. As person, of course, he's an insufferable git."  
  
Ron beamed, affectionately mussing her hair as he drew her in for giant hug. He smelled like a mixture of apples, cinnamon spice and Molly Weasley's cooking, like the big brother Ginny knew and loved, but most of all, like home. She breathed in deeply, tightening her arms and feeling grateful for the love she had, for the love she knew Draco would never be able to feel.  
  
~*~  
  
"She loves me, Gin."  
  
Ginny eyed him skeptically, relishing in the homey feel of her comforting room as she swung her legs up on the lumpy bed. She settled back, adjusting her clothes to optimal comfort and brushing a stray lock of flaming red hair away from her face. "Stupid no magic out of school rule," she muttered grumpily, noticing that she had accidentally locked the door upon entrance.  
  
"I got it," Harry said, lithely reaching up and yanking at the little knob.  
  
"Thanks," Ginny replied, flopping over onto her back and flashing him a giant upside-down grin. "So basically, you told Hermoine that you're madly in love with her and that you'd topple down the stairs in the pain of love if she didn't return your affections," Ginny teased, thrusting two arms emphatically into the air.  
  
"Not in those words," he chuckled, laughing despite himself. Then his face sobered and he nodded sheepishly. "But I did tell her that I love her, and that I want her back."  
  
"And?" Ginny prompted. "What did Hermione have to say about your little speech?"  
  
"Well," Harry winced, "She didn't exactly have time to respond, because Ron came into the kitchen and then they had to leave. And she didn't come back until today, and before we had a chance to talk, well, you arrived."  
  
"Sorry to have ruined everything for you," Ginny giggled sarcastically, not sounding apologetic at all. "Maybe I should have stayed with Malfoy." Not that he wants me to, she added silently, face reddening as she recalled his hateful words that afternoon.  
  
He gritted his teeth. "You know I didn't mean that, Gin," he said, slightly irked that she refused to acknowledge the gravity of the situation. "And stop laughing at me."  
  
"I'm not laughing." Ginny tried to keep a straight face.  
  
"Yes you are," Harry had to smile. "I can see it in your eyes, you think this whole thing is funny, don't you?"  
  
Ginny sighed deeply, manuvering to a sitting position where she could face him squarely. "Listen, Harry," she said, reaching out and laying a cool hand on his arm, "What do you think would have happened? How do you think Ron would have accepted the fact that Hermione loves you and not him, given that she even does, that we don't know."  
  
"She does," Harry enthused, "I know she does. And Ron would have come to accept that, wouldn't he? The power of love is stronger than any other magic we've ever encountered, Ginny, and don't you ever forget that. With love, even the most impossible obstacles can be overcome."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Save the mush," Ginny said. "We don't even know if Hermione returns your feelings. I mean, you said that she didn't have time to respond, am I right?"  
  
"But I know that interruptions aside, Hermione would've told me that she loved me-"  
  
"But she never did say that, did she?"  
  
"Well, no but-"  
  
"Did she say the words, Harry? Did she say, 'Harry, I love you too'?" Ginny demanded impatiently.  
  
"That's beyond the point," Harry argued.  
  
"No Harry," Ginny said firmly, "That is the point. Hermione doesn't love you back, she loves Ron, and you are the one who has to accept that." She pushed on at the sight of his crushed expression. "Harry, you're my friend, and I'm going to tell you the truth."  
  
"And what's the truth." His voice faltered slightly.  
  
"You lost your chance back last year, you ruined your love the moment that scandal happened, and now you have to face it. Remember when I said that somethings just aren't meant to be?" Ginny scooted closer. "This," she whispered, "is one of them. Be thankful the two of you have remained friends."  
  
Harry breathed, sinking in to Ginny's sensible words as the events of sixth year flooded back to him. "Harry, I do believe I fancy you," Cho Chang's melodious voice echoed in his head. He closed his eyes, falling into the memory of their heated kiss, the stolen kiss behind the oak by the lake that had propelled a whole chain of unwanted events to begin.  
  
Hermione's face popped into his head then, the wide hazel brown eyes, shades lighter than Ginny's, shadowed with suspicion and sadness. He'd tried to break it to her gently, even used the standard 'it's not you, it's me' routine, but they both knew all too well. "It's Cho, isn't it," she had said, so softly Harry's heart still ached for her when they repeated themselves, as they often did when he was alone. That night in their Gryffindor room, he'd been most afraid of damaging their friendship, but with her blessing to him and Cho, he had been so gratified over their rescued friendship that he hadn't realized what he had indeed ruined was far more precious.  
  
"Oh Ginny," Harry moaned, "I've been so stupid. How could I have snogged Cho? How could I have let her go?"  
  
"Do you really regret your romance with Cho?" Ginny inquired quietly, meeting his wistful green eyes.  
  
"No," he confessed. "Cho was wonderful, she really was. And you know, I'll admit that I think if she hadn't graduated last year, we'd still be together."  
  
"See, you've been happy. Now give Hermione her turn."  
  
They looked at each other, truly, for the first time in ages, each seeing the other as they really were. A deep understanding passed in that room then, and Ginny felt a fuzzy feeling spread at the bottom of her stomach, but it wasn't the same thump of her heart she once felt around him. It was because at that moment, she felt equal to the famous Harry Potter, she felt not just as Ron's little sister, or Hermione's tagalong, but as his friend. And that was irreplaceable. It was an inequivably good and indescripable feeling, probably one she wouldn't trade in for anything.  
  
Except, that is, another one of Draco Malfoy's melting kisses.  
  
No, Ginny frowned, wanting desperately to kick herself, I did not just think about Malfoy's lips. I am on vacation, she thought, I am at home, away from his bastardly ways, and I refuse to think about ferret-face. Fortunately, her silent laments came crashing down as Harry finally decided to speak.  
  
"You're right," Harry admitted. "I've been, selfish, haven't I?"  
  
"That's the kind way of putting it," Ginny rolled her eyes, hopping to her feet. "Come on, I'm sure Ron's getting worried now. Let's go back downstairs."  
  
"You know, Gin," Harry observed with a warm, appreciative smile, following her to the door, "I just noticed what a great person you really are."  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes again. "Two years too late," she said under her breath.  
  
"What was that?" Harry cocked his head to a side as she dragged him out the room.  
  
"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."  
  
~*~  
  
"Ronald Weasley, what the blazes do you think you're doing?" Ginny screeched as she skidded into the room, watching dubiously as he stuffed a lead-filled sack into her tiny suitcase.  
  
He whipped around, putting a finger to his lips and indicating Hermione's sleeping form. "She's asleep," he mouthed.  
  
The week really had passed by in a blur, Ginny found, and just as well. Harry's depressiveness and Ron's cheery attitude was one too many contradictions than she could take, and besides, the excursion had cleared her head quite a bit. Now, she didn't need to decide whether she wanted to bang Draco on the head with a pot or whether she just wanted to bang him. Now, she wished him a horrible death in the fiery pits of hell.  
  
Well, not exactly. She wanted him tortured first.  
  
Perhaps it was being around her true friends, and perhaps it was living for a whole week without sneers and insults thrown her way (minus, perhaps, Ron when she'd poked fun at his hair). The dull tingle that ached within her whenever she thought of Malfoy only grew, she found, and the only plausible excuse would be that Ron's steadfast values had reinforced the Weasley-Malfoy hatred within. And anyways, it wasn't like Draco's pride would let either of them forget that stinging slap she had tossed his way.  
  
Harry laughed, quietly of course. "It looks like he's giving you some self-defense mechanisms," he told Ginny.  
  
Ginny's jaw dropped, floating back to earth. "What is that, lead?" she squealed. "Why are you putting lead in my suitcase?"  
  
"Thought you might need to protect against the big, bad Malfoy," Ron said mischeviously.  
  
"With a lead-filled sack?" Ginny asked, torn between feeling grateful and confused.  
  
"If he annoys you, you can knock him out," Ron exclaimed, demonstrating as he pulled the case out and swung it above his head eagerly. Both Ginny and Harry stared at him in disbelief, and he reddened. "Okay," he admitted, lowering his arm in defeat, "It's a good luck charm, and I thought you might want it. I mean, who knows what Malfoy might have done to your room while you were gone?"  
  
"He's busy with Blaise Zabini," Ginny said confidently, turning her face away to fix an unreadable expression in her eyes.  
  
"Ah, Blaise," Ron snickered. "She always did have a thing for Malfoy, didn't she? I never did realize what any of the guys saw in her."  
  
"Oh Ron," Harry spoke up, "You're pathetic. She may be Slytherin, and friend to Malfoy, but we both know that she's beautiful. I mean, I hate that house as much as the next Gryffindor but I'll admit that Blaise Zabini is pretty attractive."  
  
"Yes well, she's in Malfoy's bed now," Ginny said, violently grabbing the lead from Ron and shoving it back into her suitcase.  
  
"Ginny," Harry said in amazement, "If I didn't know you better I'd say that it bothered you."  
  
"Of course it bothers me," she scoffed, "Draco and Blaise together? The image is positively repulsive, as much as they deserve each other. It's not something I'd like to think about while eating."  
  
"Ron!" A loud voice called from downstairs, one that was undeniably Molly Weasley's.  
  
Ron glanced at Hermione quickly, and once satisfied that her sleep had not been disturbed, he replied in a hoarse whisper, "Coming, Mum!" He turned. "Come Gin, let's go downstairs, I'm sure Mum wants to talk to you before you leave."  
  
Ginny nodded, following him quietly down the stairs. She hadn't seen much of either Molly or Arthur Weasley during her time home, mainly due to her father's demanding job at the Ministry of Magic. And it wasn't like she would have asked her mother for advice on boys, certainly not boys like Draco. Besides, she told herself, it's not like Draco counts as one of those "boys" anyways, it's not like I have feelings for him, not feelings besides hatred, at least. She breathed deeply, gripping the banister, remembering his arms around her, imagining him whispering in her ear. She could almost hear his husky voice murmuring her name. "Ginny." He'd never yet called her by her first name, but the sound of it off his tongue was sure to be one unlike any other she'd heard. "Ginny."  
  
"Ginny!" Ginny snapped out of her reverie sharply, unwillingly, to meet Ron's suspicious eyes. "Are you okay, Gin? You've been acting strange all week, dozing off at the weirdest times."  
  
"I'm fine," she said quickly, nimbly working past him to the living room, where her mother was waiting patiently.  
  
He stared after her, certain that something was off but unable to put his finger on it. For the past few days, she'd seemed much less cheery than the Ginny Weasley he was accustomed to, and it unnerved him. "Oh Ginny, darling," he heard his mother say, "You only have ten minutes until you leave."  
  
"But don't forget, I have leave for birthdays," Ginny reminded.  
  
"Oh yes!" Molly Weasley's voice was filled with pleasant surprise. "That means you'll be returning to the burrow just a little over two weeks. What a great time to take your break."  
  
"Mum, you called for me?" Ron stepped into the light.  
  
"Yes, Ron, Ginny, I need to dash out for an hour, and its urgent." She placed a chubby hand on Ginny's cheek, and tears came to her eyes. "Oh my dear, I wish I could be here when you leave. I'm going to miss you."  
  
"I'll miss you more," Ginny said softly, hugging her mother.  
  
"Ron, the neighbors have left their owl here, and I need you to take it outside for some fresh air," Molly directed. "Can you do that?"  
  
With an encouraging smile at his eager nod, she snapped her fingers and apparated. "Well, Gin, looks like I should be outside," he said mischeviously.  
  
"It does," she agreed, trudging back up the stairs to retrieve her suitcases. There were scuffling noises coming from the room, she noticed, but no voices. Wondering what Harry was up to, she pushed open the door.  
  
And screamed.  
  
Harry and Hermione broke apart guiltily, both glancing warily between each other and the furious Weasley standing before them Hermione touched her lips gently, where Harry's had just been, and said weakly, "Ginny?"  
  
"I don't believe this," Ginny cried. "Tell me I did not see the two of you snogging like there's no tomorrow."  
  
"Well I wouldn't say there's no tomorrow," Harry started in a failing attempt at humor.  
  
"Harry, I thought we were clear on this during our conversation," Ginny raged, "and here you are, doing this! What kind of friend are you to me, to Ron?"  
  
"Ginny, I-"  
  
"I don't want to hear it!" Ginny seethed, snatching her suitcase angrily. "I thought you were different, Harry Potter, and you too Hermione. I thought you loved my brother." Hermione's eyes widened in shock, and Ginny went on. "I don't want to deal with this anymore, I am sick and tired of it. You've always been the infamous three, haven't you? No time for Ginny, just time for each other, and now that's changed, but why? So I can deal with your bloody problems, that's why." Thrusting a hand high above her head, she added vehemently, "I've had it up to here with your shit. You guys don't even care about what's happening in my life, how I'm feeling, you don't give a damn!"  
  
"That's not true," Hermione protested.  
  
"It is, and you know it," Ginny exploded, so mad she expected a red haze to appear. "I am fed up with people thinking they can walk all over me, first Malfoy, and then you guys. Well I have feelings too, I'm not a block of wood. You can't just kiss me and expect me to go back hating you as if nothing had happened!"  
  
The room fell silent, with an exception of Ginny's labored breathing as she realized exactly what she had blurted out. Harry's green eyes were rapidly growing round and confused, Hermione's simply growing round. "Gin, what is this about?" She finally said.  
  
"I've had it here," Ginny avoided Hermione's question, face flaming. I'm leaving, and don't you expect me to owl you from the Manor."  
  
"Ginny, don't go like this," Harry said lamely.  
  
Ginny ignored him, grabbing her bags and storming out the door. It was time to go back, she thought sourly, back "home" to Malfoy.  
  
~ End of Chapter 8  
  
A/N* Ah like I said the H/Hr/R chapter but as you can see. . . Ginny still can't get a certain blond Slytherin off her mind . . .but will he be the one that hears her thoughts when she returns? Or will they just go back to hating each other even more than before? Haha find out when I finish/upload the next chapter ^_~ Oh and in case your wondering, Blaise will return to the story, but not for a while.  
  
Now R/R! 


	9. While You Were Away

Disclaimer: All belongs to J.K Rowling minus the plot and a few things here and there  
  
Chapter 9. While You Were Away  
  
By the time Ginny arrived at Malfoy Manor, she was in a wickedly foul mood. The manor was in an uproar, people that Ginny had never seen before milling around, taking measurements and notes and such, but none that lessened the conflict of feelings boiling in her stomach.  
  
The ride there had given her plenty time to contemplate the surplus of problems in her life, none of which had solutions she could think of for the time being. She was beginning to feel guilty for overreacting on Harry and Hermione, and a large chunk of that guilt turned into anger. It was all Malfoy's fault, she thought bitterly, he was the root of her problems.  
  
She stormed through the masses, her eyes scanning the halls for the blond Slytherin. Part of her yearned to see him, as a shouting match with Malfoy always did appease her in the strangest way. It gave her some satisfaction to take her anger out on someone, and anyone but him would have earned her one less friend, just like her explosion with Harry and Hermione probably did.  
  
The people in the room eyed her curiously, obviously wondering why she was standing so defensively, hands clenched as she rolled back rhythmically on her heels. She ignored every one of them, not even bothering to wonder where they came from, her eyes focused for one thing and one thing only. She knew that letting her temper best her was most likely a disastrous idea at the moment, but it didn't matter to her. So many things were going wrong, and she just needed a scapegoat. See, I even admitted it, Ginny thought.  
  
And then she spotted him.  
  
Draco was giving orders near the bottom of the grand marble steps, and she could see him quite clearly through the open arch of the foyer. For nearly a minute she was immobile, watching the fluid movements of his legs as he moved gracefully from one table to another. "Damn he's beautiful," she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of him.  
  
Immediately, Ginny gasped. She had just called Draco beautiful, whats more, she had been admiring him, wanting him. Did she really need him as a punching bag, to spill the feelings she couldn't around Harry? Was this why her mind wandered constantly to him, even around her family? It couldn't be, Ginny thought, mind spinning. And then it struck her, a realization so devastating, so important, and so clear she lost feeling in her legs and had to seek refuge in a neighboring metal chair.  
  
She had feelings for Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Gods," Ginny breathed, clamping a hand over her mouth as if she'd spoken the morbid words aloud. She had been in denial ever since the blasted kiss that morning, even hoping that a home visit would knock some sense into her, but this, this was real and she had to face the music. That funny feeling in the pit of her belly didn't flop everytime she saw him because she wanted to kill him, it was actually somewhat related to what she used to feel around Harry. Only more raw, more intense, and always so brief.  
  
"Why him?" She moaned, not noticing the strange stares she'd earned from those around her. It suddenly made sense to her now-the past few days, the touchiness around the subject of Blaise, even the slapping. The room had seemed to suddenly grow smaller, louder, and hotter, clouding Ginny's thoughts and stirring her emotions. There was only one thing to do, she reasoned, though logic was certainly not something floating in her mind, and that was to tell Malfoy what she thought of him, before she lost her train of thought.  
  
Not even comprehending what her legs were doing, Ginny stood up and moved purposefully towards Draco. Though the throngs of people around her weaved past constantly, it was easy to spot her target: his magnificent blond hair shimmered under the lights and separated him from the crowd.  
  
At that moment, Draco turned his head ever so slightly, almost like he sensed her stare, but his gaze swept right past her. Ginny sighed in relief, for what reason she was still unsure of, but continued her way towards him. His sharp silver eyes remained fixed in her direction, but never on her, causing her pounding heart to beat faster yet. She only had eyes for him, as in that moment it was like they were the only two people in the crowd. She stepped closer, and closer, and parted her lips to call his name.  
  
And then a cold hand shot out and grabbed her arm.  
  
"Adrienne?" She asked, startled by the panicking expression on the maid's face and her reverie finally interrupted.  
  
"Oh my gods, Ginny," Adrienne cried, "Thank the heavens you're here."  
  
"What's going on?" Ginny demanded, her eyes scanning the hall again, but Draco had already gone.  
  
Adrienne sighed, exhausted. "You chose the worst week to leave," she said wryly, "At least, worst for us. Probably the best for you."  
  
"I don't get it," Ginny said.  
  
"Okay, you remember that wine Madame Malfoy wanted?" Adrienne began, running a hand through her limp tresses. "Well, since you fell down the stairs, she never got it, and the muggle family that would've gotten it weren't too pleased, and so now, now she's holding a muggle party."  
  
Ginny's jaw dropped. "A muggle party?" she squeaked, all thoughts of Draco momentarily dislodged. "But the Malfoys despise muggles!"  
  
Adrienne nodded. "I know. You didn't hear how much Madame Malfoy complained about having to actually let muggles into the manor, she wouldn't let up on it, I swear. Thus, she has refused to take part in the actual planning, nor will she even show up to the party."  
  
"That's terrible!" Ginny exclaimed.  
  
"Tell me about it," Adrienne replied. "But the upside is that since it's a muggle party, no prominent wizarding families are invited. You see, the Malfoys want to keep this a complete secret, and we, the servants, are invited to masquerade as rich guests."  
  
Ginny frowned. "When's the party?"  
  
"Not for another three weeks," Adrienne reassured, "But you know how elaborate these affairs can get. First the magical folk are taking care of decharming the manor, and then the muggle caterers have to come, and well, naturally it's going to be a while."  
  
"Wait," Ginny stopped her, perplexed. "So we take care of this entire thing? We can plan it exactly how we want?"  
  
"Well, no," Adrienne admitted, "Young Master Malfoy is observing the 'blessed event' and he's actually doing some of the planning."  
  
Malfoy. Oh Gods, Ginny shuddered, remembering her intentions just seconds earlier. Had she actually felt something besides pure hatred for him-worse, was she actually planning to confess some silly spur-of-the- moment feelings to him? Was she actually going to claim that she slapped him out of-jealousy? The thought of it brought an aching pain to her temple, and she gripped the banister a little more tightly.  
  
She looked at Adrienne graciously, a wave of shame and disgust rushing over her. "I'm so glad you stopped me," Ginny muttered, more to herself than anyone else.  
  
"Oh me too," Adrienne agreed, "We really need some help here. Here, why don't you start with the floral arrangements."  
  
As she talked, Ginny couldn't help but let her mind wander. I was going to tell Draco that I had feelings for him, she thought incredulously, I was going to walk up to that bloody git and tell him that.  
  
"Ginny?" Adrienne ventured, snapping the younger girl away from her thoughts.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Ginny jolted, blushing vehemently.  
  
"It's okay." Adrienne scrutinized the apologetic girl before her carefully. "Are you feeling alright?"  
  
"Yes. No. Yes. Sort of."  
  
She laughed. "Well you know, sometimes talking about it helps."  
  
Ginny glanced at her supportive smile, and sighed deeply. "Guy trouble," she confessed. "There's this guy who I absolutely don't get along with but out of the blue one day we kind of," she paused, lowering her voice, "we kissed. I hate him, but now, I can't stop thinking about him."  
  
"What's he like? Is he cute?" Adrienne's bright blue eyes sparkled, reminding Ginny so much of an excited Hermione.  
  
"He's. . ." Ginny trailed off, uncertain how to describe Draco. She thought for a moment, and finally said softly, "he's impossible to describe. He's unlike any other guy I've ever met before."  
  
Adrienne let out a giggle, blond girls bobbing as she encircled Ginny in a hug. "You've got it bad," she chuckled, ignoring Ginny's protests. "Tell me, does Mr. Amazing have a name?"  
  
"Ferret," Ginny said automatically. She winced at Adrienne's dubious expression.  
  
"Ferret?" she squeaked. "His name is Ferrret Amazing?"  
  
"No, of course not!" Ginny said, wishing she could kick herself. "That's his last name. He has a first name, you know." Ginny racked her memory for a name, any name, but the only words that surfaced were Draco Malfoy. Think of fifth year, she thought desparately. For some reason, the Slytherin mascot popped into her head and she blurted out, "Serp-ius. That's his name. Serpius, uh, Ferret. Yes. Serpius Ferret."  
  
Adrienne nodded in mock approval. "Not a bad name," She commented, trying not to laugh. "Serpius Ferret. Well, I guess we can just hope the rest of him is better than his name, right? There better be some compensation if you're going to be Mrs. Virginia Ferret."  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Funny," she said dryly. "Okay, back to the party."  
  
Adrienne smiled mischeviously. "I get the point," she said, wagging a finger. "Discussion dropped. But you know that we're coming back to it. For now, we have intensive planning to do."  
  
"Wait," Ginny stopped. "My birthday is next Saturday, and I'm going home to celebrate."  
  
Ginny stifled a grin as the elder girl frowned. It had been the perfect week to take her vacation indeed, she thought. "I suppose you're right," Adrienne said slowly. "Nothing we can do about a birthday. But promise that you go home overnight, and we'll be fine."  
  
Ginny laughed. "Of course," she promised, gripping each one of their arms lightly. "Now let's get to work."  
  
~*~  
  
"Okay, so put the wreath over here and the bouquet over here," Ginny directed. The small man in front of her nodded eagerly, pointing his wand all over the grand entrance hall quicker than she could see. These wizard party planners sure know how to get things done, she thought appreciatively.  
  
"Excuse me ma'am, would you check out the parlor and see if everything is arranged as you requested?" A bearded man asked, appearing to her right.  
  
"I'm on it," She responded, bounding away. It had been a tiresome afternoon, but one in which she'd accomplished many things. And in the time she'd heaved herself into decharming, Draco had managed to almost slip her mind. Now, Ginny was eager to see the fruit of her labor, and she hurried to see the decorations in the finished room. She turned the corner and dashed into the sitting room, whirling right into someone's hard chest, someone who smelled and felt very familiar.  
  
"You're back," Draco said, not betraying at all whether he was pleased or disappointed.  
  
His eyes flickered over her slowly, causing her knees to numb. "Obviously," Ginny recovered evenly, struggling to maintain a steady breath at the sight of him, tall and dignified, hair slicked back smooth as ever.  
  
"I see then you've heard about the party."  
  
She nodded, wanting to ask if he remember her blow to his face but not daring to. Part of her wished he had forgotten, and the other part still seethed from his hurtful words. "Muggle party," she said limply.  
  
"Unfortunately," Draco snorted. "Another one of Mother's brilliant ideas."  
  
"She's not showing up," Ginny pointed out blankly.  
  
"Actually," Draco contradicted with a small smirk, "It seems she realized that an appearance is necessary. And this wednesday Mother expects me to retrieve her gown from Diagon Alley. Now, she's already assumed that you have the honor of accompanying me."  
  
"Oh really?" Ginny mocked before she could stop herself. "Whatever did I do to deserve such a gift?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Still feisty, I see," he noted. "I'm almost afraid to ask how your week with Potter was. You didn't slap him too, did you?"  
  
"No, of course not," Ginny replied, spitefulness evaporating instantly as she was unable to think of a better response. Evidently, he remembered their last confrontation, but what the hell was she supposed to say about it?  
  
"A shame," Draco chuckled mirthlessly. "I presume then that you had a splendid time."  
  
"Naturally, you can imagine that it was just fine, since you weren't around," Ginny shot back. It was so natural to speak harshly with him, she thought. And then Blaise crossed her mind. "How was your week shagging the Zabini slut?"  
  
His eyes widened, but just slightly, and if Ginny didn't know any better she would've thought that she'd startled him. "Wonderful," he smirked. "It was pure bliss. So naturally, you can imagine that I'm rather physically exhausted." He paused, completely unfazed by the deathly glower she was sending him. "Well, I wouldn't exactly ask you to imagine," he added smugly, "since you're never going to experience anything like that."  
  
"Yes, Malfoy," Ginny gritted her teeth, "because unlike you, you little manwhore, I actually have morals. I don't leap into bed with anything that has a uterus."  
  
"I'd be surprised if you did," Draco returned smoothly. "I didn't think any of the Weasleys actually preferred women."  
  
Her face grew dark at the comment starkly implied towards her brothers. "You bloody-"  
  
"I wouldn't finish that if I were you," he interjected, tilting his head at her. "These last few weeks I've certainly been easy on you, but I think it's time you're reminded of who the boss around here is." He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned, a calm, dangerous grin, one that dared her to respond.  
  
Ginny squeezed her eyes closed tightly, breathing deeply in an attempt to control her temper. When she opened them, she found him watching her with that same cool, unaffected Malfoy indifference. But unlike their previous confrontations, it seemed less like he itched to strangle her. If anything, the smile playing at his lips suggested amusement.  
  
It was like oxygen on fire, and her rage fanned out even more. How dare he laugh at my expense, she fumed silently, clenching and unclenching her jaw in small, mechanical motions. "Fine," she spat out slowly, "I am going to my room." For the sake of her sanity, she willed herself to turn and move away.  
  
"By the way," he said condescendingly, causing her to stop and grudgingly spin around. "I don't shag just anything with a uterus. There's an extensive screening process that comes first, you know, just to make sure that everyone who makes it into my sheets is beautiful."  
  
Draco shot her a gloating grin, waiting for her to storm off and simper in her room, or at least fling some witty remark back at him. What she did, however, took him completely by surprise: she laughed.  
  
"Malfoy," she said in an odd voice, "I spent a night in your sheets." Taking advantage of his speechlessness, she added quietly, "Or maybe you've forgetten, as you were so quick to forget what happened the next morning." Tearing her eyes from his unreadable silver gaze, she strode away, surprised her suddenly weak legs could even carry her.  
  
"Weasel," he called, just as she reached the open door.  
  
Ginny froze. She wanted to leave, but for some inexplicable reason, the strange tone he'd spoken to her in transifixed her, rooting her to the ground despite herself. She did, however, refuse to turn around, instead standing stock still as a prompt for him to continue.  
  
There was a long, heavy silence. Draco almost shut his mouth, unsure of what to say and wondering why he stopped her in the first place. "You know, it's pretty impossible to forget something you can't stop thinking about," he finally said in a voice so faint it was nearly inaudible.  
  
Ginny looked down at her feet, not trusting her voice to speak and not trusting her heart to meet his eyes. So she did the only thing she really could do at that moment.  
  
She walked away.  
  
~End of Chapter 9  
  
A/N* Sigh so angsty its even bothering me. But no worries! Love shall prevail! aha too dramatic there. . . hmm I think that chapter 10 is my favorite so far. That's where they go back to Diagon Alley. Many thanks to everyone that has been reviewing! J-Chan ~ haha sorry yes I am pretty slow for the summer (summer school for psat thingies), but I'll update every Monday, so once a week. Yep yep. Aritey less time on A/Ns and more time on the chappies. . . 


	10. Want What You Can't Have

Disclaimer: not mine, not mine  
  
A/N* yeah I know I said I'd post every Monday and I was getting pretty good with the whole once a week routine but you guys have been so very good with the reviews this one is here three days early (or two, depending on when ffnet uploaded it) ^_^ read over chapter nine and realized it was kinda forced so I shall make necessary revisions when I have the time, I promise.  
  
Chapter 10. Want What You Can't Have  
  
The peace and solitude Ginny had found her first visit to Diagon Alley with Draco no longer existed. As the weeks progressed, the imminent close of summer drew nearer, and wizards and witches alike found themselves shopping to avoid the crowds. However, the ironic thing was that the "crowd" evidently felt the same way, and this particular day Diagon Alley was packed.  
  
Draco was in a sullen mood; he'd not spoken more than two words to her the entire day, those two being, "Sod off." He wasn't even up to his normal standards, insulting her, if even, with a measley phrase she'd flung in his face countless times. And the god-awful thing about the entire ordeal was that he was embarassed-yes, he, Draco Malfoy, was embarassed.  
  
He'd already botched things up by confessing to her what he felt, or a nuance of what he felt. For crissakes, he thought, I've never revealed so much of my feelings to anyone before. Emotions were weak, and Malfoys certainly were not. And he'd gone and let that bloody Weasley know that the kiss had affected him. As if his momentary lapse of judgement wasn't bad enough, she had walked away. For Draco, she might as well have laughed in his face, it was a shame really, downright disgusting and humiliating.  
  
The new Nimbus broom glinted from the store window, and Draco paused to admire it. But even the sleek polished wood couldn't take his mind off Ginny. Why did she walk away? The question repeated itself in his end incessantly, driving him near the brink of insanity. He couldn't figure it out; normal girls would swoon if a guy had spoken such words. Add the fact that the guy was Draco, and half the female population would be melting into puddles of mindless jelly.  
  
Ginny's not a normal girl, a small voice in the back of his head shouted. He swallowed. That much was true, Draco admitted silently. It wasn't just because she had the guts to stand up to him either, no, mousy Granger and her tacky Harry did just the same. There was something about the fire in those scalding brown eyes that rose a growling heat to flame inside him.  
  
Normally, Draco would chalk it up to raging male hormones, but that was another problem. He never let women best him; Lucius had taught him to think with his head at all times, rather than some other body part. "I am thinking with my head," Draco said to himself, scowling at his reflection from which he could already see Lucius berating him.  
  
No, you aren't, that same small voice said. Draco glanced back to the window, his silver eyes confused and angry. "Then what," he muttered, "am I thinking with." An elderly woman near him shot him a terrified look and scatted away, either because she thought him a lunatic or because she recognized that prominent Malfoy face.  
  
Ignoring her, he continued to stare blankly at himself, unable to concede why he had acted so. It would only be a matter of time before he realized what everyone else already had.  
  
He, Draco Malfoy, had been thinking with his heart.  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny had never been inside Kathryn's Gowns and Robes before, but there was a first time for everything. As she predicted, the place carried an air of elegance, wealth, and prestige, and normally she'd be intimidated by such a store but today, Ginny Weasley was in a horrid mood and ready to bulldoze anything that stood in her way.  
  
The shopkeeper was tall and slender, in her early twenties, and probably one of the most beautiful witches Ginny had ever met. With her long mahogany curls and dark sapphire eyes, she complemented the snub and sophisticated aura of the store better than Malfoy could have done himself, and eyed Ginny with unrestrained disdain.  
  
"Welcome to Kathryn's," she said forcedly. "I'm Kathryn."  
  
"You're Kathryn Morgan?" Ginny asked. "But this store has been here for decades now."  
  
"Kathryn Morgan-Dague," She corrected. "Kathryn Morgan was my great- great grandmother. What do you want?"  
  
Ginny blinked, taken aback. "I was looking for a dress, actually."  
  
"Well the used clothes shop is just around the corner, maybe you want to try there instead," Kathryn replied snidely.  
  
"How kind of you, but I'll be fine here," Ginny said sweetly, refusing to let a snob like Kathryn best her and scanning the store inconspicuously. Her gaze landed on a dark blue ballgown in a shade so deep it resembled black, and she gasped. "I actually wanted to try that one on," She said, gesturing to the gown.  
  
Kathryn rolled her eyes, obviously wanting to decline but not having much other choice. Gently she removed the garmet from its backing and shoved it at Ginny. "I'm guessing you're a student," she sneered, "So you can't use magic. You can change in back, the mirror is in the front, and I'll be upstairs."  
  
"Why thank you," Ginny mocked.  
  
"Don't even think about stealing it," Kathryn added before disappearing up the stairs.  
  
Ginny made a face. She dealt enough with Kathryn's kind at Hogwarts, and she could bet her life that Kathryn would've been in Slytherin. She shimmied into the dress easily, the silken material feeling rich and luxurious against her skin. It was such a gorgeous gown, and immediately she regretted trying it on as she knew there was no way in hell a Weasley could afford it.  
  
"I love it," she breathed. "It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen."  
  
She faced the mirror, admiring the clean lines the gown fell to her feet in and feeling rather naked, as she'd never worn a dress with such thin straps before before. But it was still so beautiful, she thought wistfully. There was a sudden movement behind her, and Ginny snapped around, ready to glare down Kathryn. This was the first thing that had appeased her all day, and she was certainly not about to let some snot ruin it for her.  
  
Only it wasn't Kathryn.  
  
Draco Malfoy's stormy gray eyes bore into her. "Well look at you," was all he said.  
  
"How long have you been there?" Ginny demanded.  
  
"Long enough to see you talking to yourself," he chuckled, scanning her quickly. "And you think I'm the vain one."  
  
She pinked. "Didn't your mother tell you it's rude to stare?" She sputtered.  
  
"Most girls like it when I stare," He said slowly with a sardonical grin.  
  
Ginny swiveled around and faced her reflection once more. "So to what honor do I owe the fact that you've decided not to ignore me anymore?" She changed the subject, meeting his eyes through the mirror. There was a few seconds of silence, and she added a little more harshly, "Answer my question."  
  
"Do you plan on wearing that thing all day? You know you can't afford it," Draco smirked. She rolled her eyes, not quite bothered by his comment. Glancing at the gown one more time, she stepped down and flounced towards the changing room.  
  
"Answer my question, Malfoy," she repeated.  
  
Draco followed her. "When did I ignore you?"  
  
"This morning! All of today," Ginny said exasperatedly, glaring at him before she yanked the curtain shut.  
  
"On the contrary," he snickered, "I believe I did speak to you."  
  
There was a rustle as Ginny struggled with her dress. "I hardly count what you said 'speaking', Malfoy," she finally said, her breath labored.  
  
"Don't kill yourself in there," Draco smirked.  
  
"Bloody zipper," she muttered. "Bloody no magic rule. Oh bloody, bloody hell." Draco stifled a snort, and after a noisy bang, he found himself staring down at a very irritated redhead who was evidently still in her dress. "I can't get the damn zipper down," she said quite plainly.  
  
"I knew Weasleys were slow on the uptake, but I never thought I'd see the day when they forgot how to manage clothes," Draco couldn't resist saying.  
  
"Can you not be a bint for just a second?" Ginny snapped, frustrated and fed up. "Just, help me undo this zipper." She turned around and swept her hair in front of her shoulders, waiting expectantly.  
  
Draco was paralyzed momentarily as he stood facing the partially unzipped dress, breathless at the sight of the creamy expanse of her skin and the teasing white lace that peeked out from her bra. "Do you plan on making me wear this all day?" She mimicked his voice, and he nearly rolled his eyes.  
  
He stepped closer, one hand on the small of her back and the other resting loosely upon her hip. "Would you mind?" He half-whispered, his breath tickling her ear. She gasped as in one sudden movent his hand moved deftly to the zipper and yanked, hard.  
  
Ginny spun around, meeting his eyes quizzically. "It's a beautiful dress," she replied before returning to the dressing room, "And one that I've been reminded I could never afford."  
  
Through the thin fabric of the curtain he could see her silhouette moving. "Is it the dress," he said softly, "or the person who wears it?"  
  
She stopped dressing abruptly, evidently frozen as she contemplated his words. Then she was in motion again, nimble fingers buttoning up her blouse as she said in a trembling voice, "Malfoy, we need to talk."  
  
He smiled, and though she couldn't see him, she saw the smile- the trademark, catlike grin that stretched his lips thin and revealed imperceptibly white teeth. "What do you think we're doing right now?" He said.  
  
The curtain snapped open, and Ginny stood shadowed in the frame of the small room. "You know what I mean," she exclaimed, her brown eyes glistening with aggravation.  
  
"Do I," he responded, cold, hard, serious, and vulnerable all at the same time. It wasn't a question.  
  
"I do hope you're done with that dress," Kathryn's voice came from the top of the stairs, "because if you wear it any longer you're going to bloody contaminate it." The soft tap of her shoes against the oak grew louder as she neared them. "And for crissakes-"  
  
She stopped suddenly, her blue eyes filled wide with surprise and shock as she saw Draco. "You were saying?" He prompted, mildly interested.  
  
"Mister Malfoy," she recovered, alarm replaced with a dazzling smile, one that had undoubtedly trapped many men in her web before. "I wasn't expecting you here."  
  
"I realized," he replied easily. "I came in while you were upstairs. And do call me Draco."  
  
"Draco," Kathryn purred, "It suits you."  
  
"I suppose," he chuckled. "Is my mother's dress ready?"  
  
"Um," Kathryn flustered, "I do believe so." Ginny nearly laughed as she watched the elegant woman trip over herself to please Draco. Unfortunately, Kathryn caught the snicker forming on her lips. "And why are you still here?" She asked frostily, "You're polluting the air."  
  
"My my, aren't we feeling vicious," Draco said with a laugh.  
  
"Draco," Kathryn said, "Do you know who this little rat is? She's a Weasley, she's a muggle-lover-"  
  
"And she's with me," Draco finished firmly. "My maid, actually," he amended at her horrified expression. Ginny's grateful smile immediately changed to a scowl.  
  
"Oh," Kathryn said. "That explains it."  
  
"Malfoy, meet me by Olivanders when this prick gets your order," Ginny interrupted, unable to stand Kathryn for a second longer. She stormed past him and out the door, lingering for one last glance of the dress she would never have.  
  
Draco almost went after her.  
  
~*~  
  
"That went well, don't you think?" Draco said in a tone that could've been cherry if it hadn't been coming from him.  
  
Ginny glared at him. "I think you took long enough in there," she returned shortly, swiftly climbing to her feet.  
  
He shrugged. "Mother's orders."  
  
She narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. "Are you sure it had nothing to do with a certain gorgeous brunette named Kathryn? Oh Draco," she mocked in a falsetto, "that name so suits you."  
  
"I thought you hated her," Draco smirked.  
  
"I do, but I'm not going to lie," she replied simply.  
  
"Oh, well, been there, done her," Draco said.  
  
Ginny shot him a scathing look. "You are such a. . .manwhore. You really are, Malfoy. Tell me your kidding, please."  
  
"Well, I've never been able to deny the ladies what they want," he began. Her irritated expression however, gave him reason to stop and admit sheepishly, "She's too old for me."  
  
"Oh." There was an uncomfortable silence.  
  
Draco was beginning to think that honesty was not quite what everyone made it out to be. It was due time to avert the subject. "You said you wanted to talk?"  
  
"Not here," Ginny said quickly. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his hand, slightly dragging him behind her into the nearest pub and then feeling surprised that he'd let her.  
  
Draco took in the noisy alcoholists, the din so consistent it might as well have been white noise, and wrinkled his nose. "You sure we're supposed to be in here, Weasley?" He asked dubiously.  
  
"I know it doesn't exactly live up to your class standards," Ginny replied, more amused than sarcastic. At the mirthful, twinkling smile he tossed her, Ginny's palm grew warm and clammy, and she was suddenly self- conscious of his cool grip. Dropping his hand sharply she flushed, but he didn't seem to notice. "Anyways," she added, "it'll have to do."  
  
He didn't even blink, finding them a small, isolated table away from the oblivious butterbeer-guzzlers that provided them with at least some privacy. Waving a witch over, he asked for some tea and tilted his head at Ginny in silent question. She shook her head despite the dryness in her throat. "So," he said once they were settled, "Go ahead, talk."  
  
"Hey, why is it that I'm the one who-" Ginny began, but then stopped and took a deep breath. "Never mind," she said, shaking her head. "Okay, well, I thought we should talk about what happened the other day."  
  
Draco crinkled his brow. "Which other day are you talking about? Considering how old we are, there's a lot of them."  
  
The chair protested in loud squeaks when Ginny shifted uncomfortably. "Malfoy," she sighed, "you have problems."  
  
He raised an eyebrow, feigning hurt. "Well, if this is what you mean by talking, I'd say we were talking back at that shop."  
  
"You know," Ginny said softly, ignoring him,"You're not the only one who has trouble. . . forgetting things." Draco blanched, and if he was anyone else Ginny could have sworn he would've blushed. Ginny was the one who reddened, though, glancing down at her hands. They were working hands, the skin roughened and the fingers long and agile, and she winced, in disbelief that these words were coming out of her mouth, and aimed at Malfoy, no less.  
  
She took his silence as a prompt to continue. "I don't know, I guess I've never been the brightest of my kind but lately, I've been awfully confused," she plodded, too afraid and too embarassed to look at him. Suddenly, the vitality of sorting out her feelings was nothing compared to making a fool out of herself, but she went on nevertheless. "I know that I'm a Weasley, and you're a Malfoy, and we're destined to hate each other, but. . ." she trailed off, not quite sure how to phrase her words. Did she have the guts to tell him what she'd been secretly longing for weeks now?  
  
Draco remained close-mouthed, but whether because he was astonished by her words or whether because he was simply processing them Ginny couldn't tell. "Anyways, the main thing is that, well, I just wanted to, you know, um, apologize," she stuttered. "For slapping you." She was suddenly deaf to the rest of the customers, her ears open only to Draco's voice, which currently was mute. Time seemed to be suspended as she scrutinized her fingers with intense concentration, and she dared not peek at his expression.  
  
And then he spoke.  
  
"Apology accepted," Draco said crookedly. She snapped her head up and scanned his face, emotionless and unreadable as always. But he was sitting there, leaning back in his rickety chair and watching her with cool gray eyes, one side of his mouth curved up into what could have been a smile, and Ginny knew he was telling the truth. A part of her she didn't particularly want to acknowledge wanted him to say something more, to maybe apologize for what he'd said to her about Blaise, to maybe even tell her that Blaise didn't mean anything to him, and that she did. His lips parted, and she sat up on the edge of her seat, wringing her hands nervously and waiting for whatever it was he had to say.  
  
Instead, he took a sip of his tea.  
  
~*~  
  
"So basically, Mother just wants to keep Father from exploding when he returns," Draco finished as he and Ginny exited the bar.  
  
Ginny nodded, displaying all the attentiveness a good maid should. His abrupt change of subject back in the bar and disappointed her, but she wasn't one to complain. After all, she wasn't here as Malfoy's friend, nor love interest, but as his servant.  
  
But the tone in which he spoke of his family had revealed something about him that Ginny had never noticed before. Sure, she never imagined the Malfoy household as one of love and warmth, but she'd always seen Draco as a respectful, perfect son that would procure the image of Death Eaters. And now, here he was, explaining to her his parents' actions that he needn't even share, and Ginny couldn't help but hear the scorn evident in his voice. Oddly enough, it gave her an inexplicable reason to hope.  
  
Maybe this is why he's so cold all the time, she thought as he continued, gazing at his profile intently. So cold, she amended, but so beautiful. "Malfoy," she piped up suddenly, "Do you love your parents?"  
  
His eyes widened with surprise, at first because she'd interrupted him and then because of her question. "What's not to love," he replied flatly, quickening his pace.  
  
"Why can't you seriously answer a question for once?" She demanded, grabbing the sleeve of his robe so he was forced to stop.  
  
He sighed, obviously not wanting to carry on this conversation with her. "What's it to you?"  
  
"I was wondering why it's so difficult for you to love," Ginny said quietly, this time not looking away. "I was wondering," she added, "if it's even possible for you to love."  
  
"Love," he snorted. "Love is for romantic idealists with nothing better to waste their time on."  
  
"And how would you know," Ginny pressed, "If you can't love?"  
  
"You know, I hardly credit you with authority on love," Draco sneered. "Unless you count that pathetic crush on Potter love, in which case, I'd be glad I 'can't' love."  
  
"Malfoy," Ginny said patiently, moving closer and searching his eyes. "You don't always have to be so mean, you know. It's not weak to show someone that you actually care."  
  
"And just who is it you think I care about, Weasel?" Draco smirked, his voice dangerously soft.  
  
"I don't know," Ginny whispered, stepping forward even more, running her fingers down his forearms and enticing a chill to sparkle in her spine at their contact, "But a girl can hope, can't she?"  
  
"Why surely," he drawled, "You wouldn't think that it would be you, would you?"  
  
She darkened, stepping back. "You know, Malfoy, you are such a prat," she spat lividly. "I'm trying to be honest with you and explain myself with you and all you can do is bloody-"  
  
He moved towards her suddenly, drawing her in and closing the space between their bodies enough for her to feel the heat radiating through his robes, enough for her to breath in the cologne that had dizzied her numerous times before. In one split second, his hand was on her back and his lips were on hers.  
  
Ginny felt her legs go weak, her fingers gripping his arms for support. He tasted sweet and cool all at the same time, of tea and sugar and rainforest. His mouth was moist but his lips dry, the tip of his nose gently pressing into her cheek and his free hand moving through her hair to rest below her chin.  
  
It was a heated kiss, one that demanded her to shut up but all the same merged their souls. She could hardly breathe, and it didn't matter to her. It would be a hell of a way to die. Eventually, however, too soon to Ginny, Draco pulled back for air. He studied her, her eyes still closed and her breath irregular, his face hovering close above hers.  
  
They could have been the only two people there, despite the noise around them. She opened her eyes when his lips didn't return, neither making a move to draw away. Gazing at him, their lips inches apart, she felt the last few weeks had been worth just this moment, standing there in his arms and awaiting another kiss like nothing else mattered.  
  
Unfortunately, they weren't the only two people there.  
  
Draco released her roughly, turning his neck and twisting his lips into a sardonic smile. "Well, well, look who's here," He snarled. Confused, Ginny glanced up, following his gaze to a thin, raven-haired boy standing with his mouth agape, and she paled.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
~ End of Chapter 10  
  
A/N* muahaha a cliffie!! Er, sorta.  
  
Liltrick89 ~ you have no idea how much I agree with you haha. . .Draco Malfoy goodness ::fans self::  
  
Hpdancer92 ~ how could I ever put draco and ginny with anyone else?  
  
MeanCrudeToHellWithYouTo ~ mm I guess we'll just have to read and see, eh? XD  
  
AraelMoonchild, Twoc2bcool, Little Butterly, j-chan, skyblusilver, and all my other faithful reviewers mucho mucho thanks. 


	11. First Time For Everything

Disclaimer: All belongs to JK Rowling plus or minus a few things here and there

Chapter 11. First Time for Everything

          Harry was there. 

I was kissing Malfoy, and Harry was there, Ginny panicked.  Not quite sure where to start, she just stared at him and gawked, wondering precisely how long had he been watching.

          "Malfoy," Harry growled, emerald eyes flashing, "When the hell did you become human enough to actually have the privilege of touching a Weasley?"  Not waiting for Draco to respond, he added, "You better have a good explanation for this."

          "Maybe you haven't learned," Draco smirked, "but I don't need to explain myself to anybody, much less a Gryffindor like you, Potter."

          Harry may have been shorter, but he wasn't quite as slender, and his entire face blazed with fury.  Clenching his hands tightly, he stepped up to Draco and glowered.  "You will tell me what you were doing to Ginny and why," he spat, "Or I'm going to make you serpentbait."

          "You dare try," Draco returned, angered but not about to loose his calm, "And you'll become The-Boy-Who-Died."

          Harry whipped out his wand from his pocket and shook it at Draco angrily.  "There's no magic out of school, Harry," Ginny cried in alarm.

"I don't care," Harry seethed, drawing his hand back in preperation for a curse and ignoring her feeble protests.  Almost of their own volition, Ginny's hands reached forward and pulled Draco back, stepping lightly around him and blocking him.  "Move, Gin," Harry commanded.

She didn't budge.  "Harry, don't," she pleaded, her throat parched all of a sudden.

          "Gin, this disgusting creep had his arms around you, and he's going to explain why," Harry threatened, his words directed more at Malfoy than her.

          A wave a delirious relief washed over Ginny.  So he didn't see the kiss, she realized dizzily as she craned her neck and glanced at Draco, understanding passing between their eyes.  "Harry," Ginny cleared her throat, "I-I had a pebble in my shoe, and I tripped, and Malfoy caught me."  

          He eyed Draco skeptically, but lowered the wand reluctantly, tucking it away into his robes.  "Malfoy doing good, eh," he sneered.  "Didn't think that would actually happen."

          "As if you—ow!" Draco began, but was cut off sharply as Ginny's sharp fingers pinched the skin on his arm.  He shot her a sore look as he massaged the reddening area, but duly shut up.

          "Ginny," Harry said, ignoring Draco's scowls, "I'm glad I ran into you here. I really think that we should talk about your little outburst last week."

          Ginny flinched.  "Look," she said, "I was in a really bad mood that day and things came out a little wrong, that's all."

          "Wrong?" Harry repeated incredulously.  "You were ranting about people kissing you and then expecting it to not mean anything, I mean, where the hell did all that come from?  You've never even been kissed, Gin!"

          "Says you," she grumbled, her complexion matching her hair when Draco snickered.  "And you," she turned to the blond, "You can just sod off, eavesdropping on my conversation."

          "I wouldn't call it eavesdropping, I mean, you were discussing it right in front of me," he pointed out smugly.

"Malfoy," Ginny snapped as Harry barely contained a smile, "This conversation doesn't concern you in the least, so wouldn't that be your cue to leave?"

          "On the contrary," he smirked, "I believe it does concern me, since you're talking about me."

          Ginny went from beet red to paper white all in a second, and Harry asked confusedly, "Talking about you?"

          "Sorry Har, I need a moment with my boss," Ginny excused herself, disappearing around into an alleyway and pulling Draco with her.  The dark-haired boy stared after them in absolute bewilderment.

          "Can't wait to snog me again, can you?" Draco remarked as she whirled him against a wall.  "I guess I'm just that irresis—"

          Ginny slammed a hand over his mouth, muffling his words.  "Listen, Malfoy," she hissed, staring as menacingly as possible into his startled silver orbs.  "I've had it with your mood swings.  You can act like a prat all you want when we're back at Malfoy Manor, but don't around my friends."

          Her middle finger was lodged gently between his lips, and he nipped at it, causing her to flinch and pull the hand back sharply.  "Potter's too dense to figure out what we were talking about, anyways," he replied calmly.  "You think I'd risk death by the infamous trio?  I mean, not that I'm scared, but I'd prefer starting seventh year without your stupid brother on my back all the time."

          Ginny winced as she imagined Ron's reaction, and realized that what Draco said was true.  She released him from the wall and stepped back, knowing she should apologize for overreacting but then not particularly wanting to because well, quite frankly, Draco had scared the shit out of her.  "Harry's special to me," she said quietly without realizing how wrong that came out, "but he wouldn't understand.  I just don't want him to find out about, you know, us."

          His eyes hardened.  "There is no us," he said coldly,  "Don't mistake me for Potter, Weasel."  A million voices within him contradicted his feelings, and all he really wanted was to kiss her senseless until she forgot about Potter, but he couldn't bring himself to do so.  Her words rang too fresh in his mind.  "So we snogged once or twice," he shrugged, "big deal.  I do it all the time."  Her eyes flashed with hurt, and it pained him to continue, but the Malfoy ego egged him on.  "Oh wait," he added sarcastically, taking on Harry's tone, "You've never been kissed."

          "My god, Draco," Ginny cried.  "Can you just let it go?  I'm not in fucking love with Harry fucking Potter, okay?"

          "What would Molly Weasley say about her daughter's language?" Draco asked condescendingly.

          "Sod off," she said, unfazed.  "I'm just saying, Harry doesn't mean anything to me."

          "No, he's just special to you," Draco sneered.

Ginny rolled her eyes.  "As a friend," she stressed.  He stared back at her, stubborn and unrelenting, and she let out a frustrated huff.  "Like I said, Malfoy, you have problems," she sighed, "The first one being jealousy."

          "You think I'm jealous of bloody Potter?"  Draco demanded.  "Why the hell would I be jealous of him?  I am everything that little bastard wishes he could be, I just don't have some bloody scar."

          "You think I care for him and it bothers you," Ginny suggested in a small voice, wanting to ridicule herself for having the bravado to say something like that.

          "In case you haven't noticed," he said icily, words chosen carefully to be deep barbs, "I don't give a damn who you care for because I don't give a damn about you."

Ginny stared at him for a few seconds, an equally sharp response just at the tip of her tongue.  She decided against it.  "I'm going to talk to Harry now," she said softly, "And I suppose I meet you back by Gringotts in an hour." 

"Don't be late," he called after her snidely.  "I don't like waiting for my servants."

She stopped at the end of the alley, glancing back at him before turning into the open square, to Harry.  "Why the hell did you have to be a Malfoy?" she muttered under her breath.

~*~

          "What was that about?" Harry asked suspiciously when Ginny returned.

          "I needed an hour off to talk to you," Ginny lied, "So feel special.  But we only have an hour, so you might as well begin."

          "Okay," Harry agreed.  "Well, first things first, I want to explain what happened with Hermione."  He paused, remembering the livid expression on Ginny's face when she'd walked in on their kiss.   In all honesty, it was a rather chaste kiss, at least compared to some of the kisses he'd experienced before.  "Hermione had something in her eye."

          "Oh, like that line hasn't been used before," Ginny said dryly.

          "No, she really did," Harry insisted.  "I mean, we did kiss but it was such a small, brief, kiss and I don't think," he stopped, swallowing hard.

          "You don't think what?" Ginny frowned.

          "I don't think it meant anything to her." Harry finished.  "I know it looked bad, Gin, but you have to believe me.  Ron is one of my closest friends, and as much as I love Hermione I'm not willing to risk his friendship.  Nor yours."

          "Bros before hos," Ginny supplied with a giggle.  "Not to insult Hermione or anything."

          "That's the general idea," Harry smiled.  His face grew serious as he continued, "But Hermione and I have decided to tell Ron that we, you know, kissed.  Twice."

          "Oh yes," Ginny mused, "You never did tell me about the first kiss.  Do explain how your lips just sporadically ended up on hers?"

          He blushed.  "Gods, Gin, do you have to make it sound so bad?"

          "Harry, Ron's my brother," Ginny reminded.  "What you did was absolutely terrible, even if you've decided you don't want to hurt him now.  The first kiss, I could have accepted that, accident, hormones, whatever.  But the second one?  And especially after we had that long talk, I mean, that was just uncalled for, and you know it, too."

          "I know, I know," Harry said wearily.  "And I agree, wholeheartedly, but the fact of the matter is that the kiss happened, and whether or not I still love Hermione doesn't matter anymore."

          "Love is stronger than anything, Harry," Ginny said dramatically, echoing his words.

          He grinned at her.  "Glad you're finally learning something," he teased, "But I'm trying to be serious here.  I want Hermione to be happy, and if she's going to be happy with Ron, then so be it.  But she feels the need to tell him the truth, so I guess that's whats going to happen."

          "Wait," Ginny said, "can't you just let it go?"

          He rolled his eyes.  "You're completely missing the point, here," Harry replied.  "It doesn't matter whether I do or not.  You know how Herm is, she has this thing about telling the truth and having things out in the open.  As much as I enjoy her company, I'll admit that she's somewhat of a goody-goody."

          "Somewhat," Ginny laughed good-naturedly.

          "Okay, very much one," Harry amended.  "She doesn't think her relationship will work if she's not one-hundred percent honest with Ron, and therefore feels that she needs to tell him we kissed."

          "Looking at this from an objective view and not as Ron's sister," Ginny pointed out, "If Ron got angry enough with her, you'd still be able to pursue the relationship, right?"

          "Right," Harry agreed, "But I don't want to.  Because, like I've said, I care about staying close with Ron.  You yourself said that I ruined things with Hermione already."

          "You were listening?"

          He shot her a look, and they both laughed.  "So tell me, Gin," he said suggestively, "How are things going with Colin?"

          Ginny balked.  "Colin Creevy?" She squealed.

          "Oh come on," he persisted, "Don't tell me you haven't talked to him after the Yule Ball last year."

          "He's a nice guy," Ginny said, "But not boyfriend material.  Definitely not."  Then again, she thought to herself, Draco isn't exactly either.

          "So you mean to tell me that Virginia Weasley hasn't been thinking about guys lately?"  He wiggled his eyebrows at her, something that always aroused a giggle.

          "Not exactly," she admitted, "Just not Colin."

          "Tell, tell," He pushed, eyes sparkling.

          Ginny recoiled.  Telling him she had feelings for Draco Malfoy was like a death sentence, though he'd still be tons better than Ron.  But she knew precisely what would happen.  Harry would scream at her, and then run off and tell her airheaded brother, and together they would kill her, and then Draco.  It was of better judgement not to tell Harry.  "Nobody," she said.

          "There has to be somebody," Harry declared.  "When I was going into sixth year."  He stopped, looking bemused and crestfallen all the same.  "Well, when I was going into sixth year I was dating Hermione," he realized softly.

          She slung an arm around him.  "Come, Harry, and we'll go shop away the pain," she suggested jovially.

~*~

          "It was a beautiful dress, really," Ginny said with a sigh.  "I still want to show it to you, but I don't want to give Kathryn the satisfaction."

          Harry grinned.  "I'm sure you'll receive something equally beautiful for your birthday," he reassured.  "Speaking of which, you are coming home?"

          "Oh definitely," Ginny agreed.  "Mum's invited you, and Herm, and Neville, and Colin, and Seamus, all of Ron's friends.  I wanted to invite more of my friends, but most of them are on vacation or rather far away, so the only ones who could really make it were Dru and Jen."

          "It'll be a blast," He said.

          "I'm sure.  But I better get going, or Malfoy's going to blow his top again," Ginny sighed.

"It's not an hour yet," he protested.

"Nearly, and if I get there earlier he won't wait, and we all know how tempermental Malfoy can get," Ginny said brightly.

"Can't disagree with you there," He chuckled.

Ginny threw her arms around him and squeezed.  "Everything will be fine, Harry."

          "Take care, Gin."

          She dashed down the street to Gringotts, hoping to glimpse his blond head somewhere along the way.  It had been a pleasant afternoon, though Harry's troubles worried her less than it really should, and the fact that she wasn't even bothered by what was sure to be the demise of Ron and Harry's friendship did faze her.  Ah, Gringotts, she thought with satisfaction, the building coming into view.  Skidding to a stop, she glanced around blankly as it sunk in.  

Draco wasn't there.   

Oh well, Ginny thought, I can wait.

~*~

          Thirty minutes.

          That's it, Ginny raged furiously.  Draco was acting like a child, and just because he couldn't decide what he wanted did not give him any right to waste her time.  She had been standing guard in front of the bloody bank ten minutes earlier than she had agreed to meet him, and still he didn't show.

This was ridiculous.  If she left now and he showed up later, he could very well be waiting for a long time.  And if he had already left—well, that was just impossible because she'd been early, so he wouldn't have an excuse to leave.  Still seeing red, she stormed into Gringotts bank and demanded of a very grumpy goblin whether Mister Draco Malfoy had been spotted.

          The goblin peered down at Ginny.  "The blond one, isn't it?" He cackled.

          She refused to be intimidated.  "Yes, that's Malfoy."

          Surprisingly enough, the goblin nodded.  "Yep, that fellow was in here an hour ago," he revealed, ducking down behind his desk and pulling out a small parcel.  "I'm presuming you're Miss Weasley."

          Ginny frowned, geniunely perplexed.  "Well, yes, but how did you—"

          The goblin waved a hand.  "Mister Malfoy said a redhead would be in here asking about him," he interrupted, "and he left you this."

          She took the parcel from him, still incapable of hiding her shock.  It couldn't have been cheap leaving something with the goblins, she reasoned, and even though Malfoy had the money to spare he wasn't known for being frivolous.  Untying the bag, she found a small note wrapped around the strings, and unfolded it carefully.  "Weasley," she read aloud, "Was owled by Mother and had to return home.  D.Malfoy."

          The parcel, which was about twice the size of her fist, was filled with something that crinkled when she shook it.  Emptying out the contents, Ginny gasped.  Her favorite candy, the kind Draco had bought to taunt her during their first visit, winked up at her.

          He didn't forget everything, then.

~*~

By the time Ginny arrived back at Malfoy Manor, night had fallen.  She hadn't meant to linger at Diagon Alley, but given the circumstances and the fact that technically, she had no curfew, the temptation to be Ginny Weasley, and not Ginny Weasley the Maid of the Malfoys clawed at her until she gave in.  So truthfully speaking, it hadn't exactly been an epic battle, but it had taken up a chunk of her time as she decided whether to zip home or shop around.

          Most of the household was asleep by the time she arrived, Adrienne included, which left Ginny unfortunately alone and rather awake.  She tiptoed through the grand hall precariously, the soft-patter of her feet echoing in the spacious overhang.  Gods, she thought nervously, if I run into something and I wake up the Malfoys, life will be hell because I'm not exactly on Narcissa's A-list after what happened, or didn't happen, with the wine.

          Since it was night, most of the hallways were already dark, and it gave Ginny a slight chill as she passed the set of regal Malfoy portraits, each one of them staring hard at her.  Thankfully, she made it to the servant quarters without raising much of a fuss, or at least what she thought was the servant quarters.

          "Cripes," Ginny muttered as she wandered into another dark corridor.  Pursing her lips, she decided that she must've taken a wrong turn, and headed back the way she came.  Backing up a few doors, she came to a long, narrow hallway that stretched in both directions, and wrinkled her brow in confusion.  "Did I got left or right?" She wondered aloud, not daring to take the wrong turn.

          It's okay though, Ginny thought, I'm not lost.  Yet.

          Fifteen minutes later, she slumped down on the floor, facing a set of rooms that looked exactly the same—in the fifth hallway she'd search that looked exactly the same.  "I'm not lost," she mumbled to herself.  "I can't be lost, I've heard countless horror stories about how people get lost in these mansions and their bodies are found centures later and—"  She stopped, biting her lip, and nearly whimpered.

          But sitting here and wallowing in her misery would certainly get her nowhere, Ginny resolved, and she climbed to her feet.  Deciding to take a left, she came to a semi-open sitting room, one of the many in the Manor.  "Hello?" She ventured, the only response being her echo.

          She took a tender step forward.  "Anybody?" She asked, raising her voice a couple of notches.  There was a slight sound behind her, and she shivered a little.  I'm just imagining things, she told herself firmly.  Whirling around just to appease her own paranoia, she spotted something white glinting in the dark.  And it was moving.  It's a person!  Ginny realized with alarm, opening her mouth and letting out an ear-splitting shriek.          

          Suddenly, a hand shot out and clamped around her mouth.

~ End of Chapter 11


	12. Green Is For Slytherin, Green Is For Env...

Disclaimer: All belongs to JK Rowling except a few things here and there  
  
A/N* Mehehe my evil cliffies!! Haha I guess it's a good thing I update periodically then, isn't it? ^_^ Well onto chapter 12!  
  
Chapter 12. Green Is For Slytherin, Green Is For Envy  
  
"Get off me!" Ginny screamed, but her voice was muffled by a strong hand across her mouth. The body restraining her grunted in response, and remembering little of what fighting skills Ron had taught her, she swung her arm out with all the force she could muster, hearing a nasty but satisfactory crack as it connected with a nose.  
  
"Argh!" A voice grumbled loudly, and Ginny paled when she realized it was a very familiar voice. Turning in horror, she saw Draco Malfoy, one hand across his face as he stumbled backwards. She watched, aghast, as he crashed into a table, sending him toppling across a sofa and knocking it over. He hit the ground with a loud thud and grimaced in obvious pain.  
  
"Draco?" She choked out, running to his side. He was lying in the most ridiculous position, both arms across his head and his legs half entwined on the fallen couch. Normally, she'd be inclined to laugh but from the way his lips were contorted, she could tell it had been an unpleasant experience.  
  
He groaned once again, lowering his hands and giving her a glimpse of his quickly swelling nose. Gingerly, she placed two cool fingers against it, and stroked his face. "My god, I'm so sorry," She whispered.  
  
At this, he smiled a little. "I'm sure you are," he said, stifling another groan at the slicing pain in his nose. "Like any Weasley would be sorry they nearly knocked out a Malfoy." Raising his eyes to meet hers, he saw the genuine concern reflected in her face, and a small wave of guilt rushed over him.  
  
"Malfoy, I really didn't mean, I mean, I would never hurt you on purpose and I really am sorry," Ginny spluttered, sinking down on her haunches and biting her lower lip.  
  
He struggled to a sitting position, and she moved to help him, her fingers aptly clutching his torso and dragging him up. Her body was nearly pressed into his now, and as she lifted her head she realized that his was just centimeters away. "I know," Draco murmured, his breath hot across her face.  
  
She was the one who initiated a kiss this time, moving her head, if awkwardly, to meet his lips. Before her mouth met its destination, however, her nose bumped across his and he moaned in agony, rolling his head back as his hand flew to his face once again. "I think it's sprained," he finally said, his voice muffled. "Gods, Weasley, don't play nurse."  
  
Ginny winced, even though it was a joke. She'd been rather touchy around Draco lately, partly because she wasn't even sure whether she hated him anymore, and this was one of the things that set her off. "Well, if you hadn't attacked me," she mumbled half-heartedly.  
  
It was the wrong thing to say. His eyes lit up in fury, like glittering silver jewels radiating in the night dark. "Attacked you!" He said in astonishment. "Did you hear the racket you were making? You could have woken up just about everyone here. What the hell were you doing in the private Malfoy quarters so damn late anyways?"  
  
"I didn't know," she defended. "I got-I got lost. Not everyone lives in a huge mansion, you know."  
  
"So I've realized," he replied snidely. "But you were supposed to be in bed hours ago anyways. Do you have any idea what time it is?"  
  
"You sound like my parents," Ginny said, irritated at his commanding tone.  
  
"Maybe you've forgotten," Draco snapped, "But this is my house, you are my maid, I have the right to berate you and you damn well know that."  
  
Ginny pinked a little, feeling abashed has she realized how childlike they both sounded. "I do," she ventured a small grin. "But it doesn't mean I have to like it."  
  
He relaxed a little, momentarily forgetting the throbbing pain. "Why did you come back so late?" He asked, but this time with a gentler tone that suggested he was really interested.  
  
"The dress," Ginny confessed. "I wanted to see it one more time."  
  
"Ah," Draco said, "The one you can't afford."  
  
Strangely-and fortunately for him, she wasn't affected by his inference to her poverty. "Yes, that one," she agreed. "But anyways, I saw it but then somebody else was trying it on, and I suffered some hell from Kathryn for nothing but, I guess I should have expected it. It was a beautiful dress, and someone was bound to buy it."  
  
"And pretty much everyone has more money than you," Draco pointed out.  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Draco Malfoy, biting to the last," she remarked sarcastically. "You should get that nose checked."  
  
"It'll still be perfect," he shrugged, earning an amused smile from her. "And it's just a sprain, it's happened before."  
  
"Does it hurt?" She questioned gently, shuffling over to him and touching his face tenderly.  
  
"Like hell," He replied, but in a tone so nonchalant Ginny wasn't even sure he was serious. She ran her fingers around the bruised area and he fell silent, enjoying the soothing touch of her hand and not wanting to be devoid of her caresses. Raising his eyes to look her in the face, he found that she wasn't staring at him; instead, she seemed to be concentrated on his nose. "You know," he smirked, "My nose isn't going to heal by your staring at it."  
  
"But it might feel a little better," Ginny said with a broad, genuine smile.  
  
He removed her hand very gently, setting it back into her lap, incurring a weird twinge of disappointment in her. "You should get some sleep," he said softly. "Isn't Saturday your birthday?"  
  
She blinked. "How did you know about that?"  
  
"You've been reminding me ever since you got back," Draco snorted. "And you realize it means that tomorrow is intensive party planning for you? You're going to worked to the bone to make up for your absence, which is another reason why you should sleep now."  
  
"Yes," Ginny said, "But you're forgetting why I'm here in the first place: I can't seem to find my way around this house."  
  
He smirked. "Actually, if you kept going down this hall and took a left and the next corridor, you'd be right at your room."  
  
"Well, I don't exactly feel stupid for not knowing that," Ginny retorted with a smile.  
  
"I don't know how you're ever going to survive," Draco said, almost teasingly. "But you really should go to bed now."  
  
Ginny nodded, shifting to her feet and helping Draco to his. "And really, Malfoy," she added softly, "I'm sorry about your nose."  
  
He would've laughed if Malfoys ever did. "Don't worry about it," he replied easily, "Though I'll admit, you have a hell of a punch."  
  
They stood there staring stupidly at each other for a few seconds, not sure whether it was polite to part their separate ways without a proper good night. Then, suddenly, Ginny popped up on her toes and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. It was more of a peck really, but her supple lips left a tingling imprint in his skin. "Sweet dreams, Malfoy," She said with what could have easily been a smirk.  
  
She walked away, still somewhat woozy from being so close to him, the musky scent of his hair lingering by her nose. "You too, Weasel," he said gruffly, stopping her in her tracks.  
  
Ginny turned around, but he'd already gone.  
  
~*~  
  
"And it was long, and flowing, and it was so beautiful!" Ginny exclaimed. She and Adrienne were seating comfortably in the Malfoy Servant Kitchen, early morning light filtering in through the open windows and a scent of dew upon the air.  
  
"Sounds beautiful," Adrienne agreed.  
  
Ginny sipped her tea, thinking about the previous night's events. Draco had been so. . .humanly towards her, really un-Draco behavior. It made her feel like her instinct back in the alley had been right. Just thinking about him brought a smile to her lips, and she wondered what it would be like to be with Draco, not just as some occasional snog partner (okay twice, but that counted as occasional for someone like Ginny), but as his girlfriend. She was pretty sure he was a lousy boyfriend, if the way he'd treated Pansy was any indicator, but for some reason she could understand why women would flock to him anyhow.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts," Adrienne's voice cut in. Her blue eyes sparkled. "You're thinking about that Serpius Ferret guy, aren't you?" She asked excitedly.  
  
"Can't seem to stop," Ginny admitted ruefully.  
  
Adrienne settled back in her chair, bobbing up and down like a toddler begging for candy. "Ooh, do tell, do tell."  
  
~*~  
  
"This is ridiculous," Draco grumbled as he strolled down past the kitchen towards the Music Room. "Muggle party! Seriously!"  
  
"Are you in love?" A high-pitched female voice shrieked, and he almost stopped.  
  
"No!" Another answered. "I mean-I don't know. How can you possibly be in love with someone who doesn't see you?" This time, he paused by the door. It sounded like Ginny. Despite his pride, he pressed his ear close and craned to hear her words. "He's just so indescripable, I mean, when I'm around him it's like I can't breathe you know?" He heard her say. Yep, that was definitely Ginny's voice.  
  
Adrienne giggled. "Oh I know exactly what you mean!"  
  
"I just wish he'd, you know, reciprocate my feelings or at least know the way I feel about him. It's driving me mindless, really," Ginny lamented. Draco wrinkled his nose. Damn Potter, he thought. He really never did understand what it was about the boy that made him so bloody irresistable to the women. Granted, he was the Boy-Who-Lived but who the hell really cared?  
  
"And he's really, truly amazing. When he walks down the street, people will turn and stare at him like they recognize him or something, and I can totally see why, too," Ginny continued with a sigh. "I hate feeling this way, I really do but I can't help it. Nothing I do seems to take away what I feel. It's so powerful it scares me, and when I return to Hogwarts next year he'll be there, and I'm never going to be able to concentrate, I just know it."  
  
That was enough, Draco thought. He was sick of listening about Potter this, Potter that, hell he'd just run into the kid at Diagon Alley and he was still the same skinny, scarheaded prick. A surge of something coursed through his veins, leaving him irrationally tempermental, and if he didn't know any better, Draco would've thought he was jealous. But that was impossible, because he was Draco Malfoy, and Malfoys needn't ever be jealous of anything. Swinging open the door, he sauntered into the room purposefully, arranging a placid expression as he commented lazily, "Morning."  
  
Adrienne's eyes grew wide at the sight of his bandaged nose. "Young Master Malfoy," she cried, "What happened?"  
  
He glanced at Ginny, who flushed. "Ambush," he explained simply, dropping the subject and striding to the tea kettle. Whipping around with a fresh cup of tea, he cocked his head at Ginny. "Still thinking about Potter, I see," He remarked with raised eyebrows.  
  
"Still eavesdropping, I see," She returned indignantly, growing dark.  
  
"I just happened to pass by the kitchen when your lovesick words floated into my ear," he drawled, struggling to remain emotionless.  
  
"Who's Potter?" Adrienne asked confusedly. It clicked. "Oh," she cried, "Harry Potter! The boy who defeated He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, oh yes, he attends your school, doesn't he?"  
  
Draco glanced from Adrienne to Ginny, who was too busy avoiding his gaze to answer anything other than a mumble. "Hasn't she told you the name of her love wonder?" He smirked. "Harry Potter, the one and only."  
  
Adrienne chuckled. "Naturally, I'd see why," she said, "but I'm afraid you're wrong, Young Master Malfoy. You see, Ginny's wonderboy's initials are most definitely not HP."  
  
Ginny shot her a stricken look. "Adrienne," she began.  
  
"SF," Adrienne said proudly, not even noticing. "His initials are SF."  
  
Something thudded inside Draco. "Seamus Finnegan?" He spat out before he could contain himself, not even bothering to hide the disbelief in his voice.  
  
"Is that his name?" Adrienne asked, "Seamus? Sexy name, if you ask me. What is he, Irish?"  
  
"I never knew you had a thing for Finnegan," Draco said oddly.  
  
She threw him a withering look before turning to Adrienne. "Adrienne," she started again.  
  
"So tell me," Draco interrupted, "How long have you been holding a torch for Seamus?"  
  
"Malfoy-"  
  
"Do you love him?" He pronounced the word "love" with five syllables, drawing it out and undeniably mocking it.  
  
"Malfoy," Ginny responded, all explanation she could have created vanishing from her tongue as she was bloody irritated by the smug sneer on his face, "You can just stay the hell out of my life."  
  
He straightened immediately, gazing down at her in contempt. "Fine by me," he said shortly, slamming the teacup down on the table. "Just don't let our fantasies with wonderboy interefere with your servant duties." Turning on his heel, he stormed out the door in a whirl of black and blond, stopping only to add, "But you know, you think you know someone and things just turn out so differently, don't they?"  
  
She watched him with conflicting emotions, her mouth dry and her stomach turning. "Oh my god," Adrienne said from her left. "It's him, isn't it? You have a thing for Young Master Malfoy?" Ginny didn't answer, but if her telltale blush was an indication Adrienne took it.  
  
"Leave it alone," she finally mumbled.  
  
"Virginia," Adrienne said firmly, "You've got it bad."  
  
"So?" Ginny's eyes filled with tears. "You see the way he treats me, the things he says to me. He hates me."  
  
"You say things equally vicious," Adrienne reminded. "Listen, Gin, I may not know much about matters of the heart, but I know that your heart belongs to him. And right now, he's outside, angry and alone, and you're in here, heartbroken and alone."  
  
She raised watery brown eyes to stare at the sympathetic blonde. "Adrienne," she whispered, "I don't-he doesn't-we don't-"  
  
Adrienne held up a hand. "Save it," she commanded gently. She gestured out the window, where Draco's stalking form could be seen, if distantly. "He seems to be headed for the lake," She said suggestively.  
  
"I can't," Ginny murmured, dropping her gaze.  
  
Adrienne rolled her eyes. "You know," she pursed, "I've seen the way he looks at you. His words may be sharp but his eyes, his gaze, not so quite."  
  
"What are you saying?" Ginny sniffled.  
  
"I'm saying," Adrienne replied softly, "That some things are worth taking risks for." When Ginny didn't answer, she added, "Tomorrow's your birthday, so you'll be leaving, but you're not the only one, you know."  
  
"What?" Ginny was honestly confused now.  
  
"I heard Madame Malfoy talking the other day, and her son is leaving for a Sweden early and bright tomorrow morning." Ginny inhaled sharply, and Adrienne went on. "In fact," she said, "I heard that if he likes it there, who knows when he'll return. Maybe in a week, maybe when summer ends." She smiled wryly, patting the younger girl's shoulder, and exited the kitchen.  
  
Ginny watched after her silently, the possibilites whirling in her mind as she imagined her summer-her life, in fact, without Malfoy's overbearing ego. And to her own surprise, it wasn't something she wanted to really happen. It wasn't she like could stop him from enjoying Sweden, hell, he'd probably shag twenty girls his first night there, but for some reason she wanted him to know that the guy on her mind was most definitely not Seamus.  
  
She bounded around the door, his retreating figure still in sight but moving further away as she contemplated her next action. It took Ginny only a second to decide whether or not to run after him. She took off in a sprint, her legs cycling wildly, and though she'd never been an intensive runner, she could hold her own for short distances.  
  
"Malfoy!" Ginny shouted. Oddly enough, he stopped, turning around and gazing at her quizzically, watching her with hooded amusement as she ran towards him wildly, her red hair in disarray behind her.  
  
"What do you want," he said tonelessly.  
  
She was breathing hard as she came to a stop, and her words came in little gasps. "I wanted to tell you that SF doesn't stand for Seamus Finnegan," she wheezed.  
  
He raised an eyebrow, trying to look disinterested. "I can't think of anyone else with those initials," he commented calmly, "unless you've taken to muggles lately."  
  
Ginny shook her head, slowly regaining a normal pulse, as normal as it could be around him anyways. "That's because his initials aren't SF. I made that up, the SF, it just stands for something, for who he is," she explained.  
  
"Really," he remarked. "And pray tell, since you seem to believe I care about your love interest, what those letters stand for."  
  
She took a deep breath, fanning her rosy face vigorously and noticing for the first time what a mess her hair was. "It's really rather ridiculous," she said, "but SF stands for. . ." She trailed off, seriously doubting that she should continue.  
  
His eyebrow grew higher. "For?" Draco prompted.  
  
It was a good thing her exertion had left her complexion unnaturally red, because she blushed. "It stands for Serpius Ferret," she finished, "serpius for what people believe him to be, and ferret for what he has been." Having said so, she ventured a peek at his face.  
  
He seemed confused at first, her words sinking in, and then as it registered his face clicked into understanding, but it was for not even a fourth of a second before he returned to being emotionless and blank, the Draco everyone knew and hated. "I see," was all he said.  
  
"And I wish that this Serpius Ferret would realize how I felt about him," Ginny continued, looking away, "Because I can't stop thinking about him. He's become my world, even though I'll probably never mean anything to him."  
  
The long stretch of silence didn't bother her nearly as much, she'd realized by now that this was Draco's way of responding when he wasn't sure how. It grew unbearable though, as seconds turned into minutes, and she tore away, running back to the house faster than she'd come.  
  
"Damn," Draco muttered.  
  
~End of Chapter 12  
  
A/N* Nope, no cliffie this time! Be happy, all, and review! 


	13. The Greatest Gift Of All

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 13.  The Greatest Gift of All

          _"The greatest gift of all is to love and be loved in return."_

_                                       — Moulin Rouge_

          Saturday was a perfect day for Ginny's birthday.  It was one of the cooler summer days, the air crisp and fresh and the sun beaming early into her small room.  She lingered in bed for several minutes, half wanting to continue dozing and the other half excited for her birthday celebration.

          Draco leaves today, she thought sullenly as she flipped onto her side, burrowing deep into her bed.  The idea of him loose and womanizing in Sweden bothered her much more than it should've, and a part of her wished that she could celebrate this day with him.  The way he made her feel was exquisite, unique, and absolutely addictive, and unfortunately, also a feeling she could never achieve around anyone else.

          It was terrible, the way he'd become the first thing that crossed her mind in the mornings.  I bet he doesn't have feelings for me, she thought bitterly, recalling the previous days events.  She knew his silence didn't mean a rejection but still, he could have said something, anything.  Just thinking about the encounter brought red to her face, and she shoved her face into a pillow as if doing so would erase the event, or at least the memory.

          "Oh, who am I kidding," she grumbled ten minutes later, sitting up.  "This is my birthday, and I'm going to bloody enjoy it."

          Ginny swung her legs over the bed and padded over to the bureau, mentally checking off which clothes she could wear.  It was a large wardrobe, made of solid oak, its two great doors able to fit nearly five people inside and adorned with lavish gold handles.  It was, however, mostly empty as Ginny didn't have too many clothes to store.  She unlatched the handles and swung it open, and gasped.

          The shimmery sapphire material of the magnificent ball gown from Kathryn's sparkled up at her.

          "Oh Gods," She breathed, unhooking the dress from its hanger and pulling it out.  It was every bit as spectacular as she'd remembered, and holding it in her arms, knowing that it was hers filled her with an overwhelming joy.  There was a small note attached to the tag, and she pulled it off, immediately recognizing it as similar to the one she'd gotten at Gringotts two days ago.

                    Weasel—

                             Didn't think it would look right on anyone else. 

          And that was it.  No signature, no D.Malfoy this time, but Ginny knew that it had to be from Draco.  He was, after all, the only one besides Kathryn who'd seen the dress and the chance of Kathryn sending it to her was like believing Voldemort was really a good person.

          She sighed.  

          Draco.

~*~

          "Happy birthday, Gin!" Ron shouted the moment Ginny stepped inside.  She was surrounded with hugging arms and loving shouts, as if she hadn't returned in centuries and not days.

          She met Harry's eyes questioningly from the middle of Ron's arms, and he shook his head.  "Not yet," he mouthed.

Before she could question him further, Hermione had rushed forward.  She swayed a little nervously before she enveloped Ginny in a hug, obviously worried that she was treading in deep water after the outburst Ginny had left imprinted on her.  

          With a reassuring smile, Ginny whispered into her ear, "Harry and I talked."

          Hermione seemed to understand.  Her brown eyes lit up and she exclaimed proudly, "Ooh, Gin, I bought the best present ever!"

          It took nearly twenty minutes for the din to die down, and most of her guests flooded into the crowded kitchen for a glimpse of whatever treats Molly Weasley had prepared.  It was a rather pleasant birthday, in fact, and when Ginny opened her presents she was in a surprisingly gracious mood.  She really didn't need anything for her birthday, and just recalling the fact that she owned the marvelous dress was enough to put a smile on her face as she opened Seamus's hideous crotcheted sweater.

          Most of her presents she actually liked, including a lovely red patterned scarf from Hermione.  She was sitting quite pleasedly in the midst of her gifts when Molly and Arther Weasley entered, grave expressions on their face.  "What is it, Mum?" Ginny asked immediately, concerned.

They exchanged glances, and Arthur nodded.  "Ginny, darling," Molly began, sitting down next to her, "Have you ever heard of Louis XIV?  He was a muggle king, king of France back in the seventeenth century, and better known as the Sun King."

Ginny frowned, surprised that she'd be receiving a lecture on muggle history.  "I think so," she said.  For some reason, she had the feeling the rest of her brothers had heard this tale before.

"Well," Molly continued, "He had many, many mistresses, one of those men that were never content with what they had.  His last mistress, however, who he married after his wife's death, was a witch by the name of Francoise D'Aubigne.  Now, she was a governess to his children, and she loved him dearly but the Sun King was known for his infedelity, and she couldn't believed that he truly loved her; she was in fact his mistress for seventeen years before they married."

"That's nice," Ginny wrinkled her nose, "But I don't get why you're telling me this."

"Shush," Ron ordered.  "You'll get it."

Molly beamed.  "Well, naturally, he had to prove his love for her," Molly went on.  "Louis had this fetish for rubies, and he had this one large ruby that was known as 'Le Feu du Soleil.'"

"The Fire of the Sun," Arthur supplied.  "It was one of the brightest jewels of all time.  There was even a rumor that when the sun rose, the stone would gleam and the room in which it was kept would turn red."

"Exactly.  He had this ruby cut into seventeen smaller rubies, each one in a different shape, one for each year they had been together.  They were each fastened into a ring and adorned with diamonds and—"

"Mum," Ginny said politely, "I still don't understand how this has to do with me."

Molly sighed, gazing at her husband briefly.  "I'll just tell you," she said.  "Francoise was your ancestor, shunned from society from falling in love with a muggle.  Though she was rich, her family in the wizarding world was doomed to be poor, and when Louis died she presented gave four of the rings to each of her four siblings, leaving her one to keep.  Most of the families sold them to survive, but luckily for you, the one she kept was never given away."

The purpose of Molly's story began to take shape in Ginny's mind, but it left her doubts.  And then Arthur came forward, revealing from his pocket a small, bejeweled box.  Ron's face was nearly as priceless when she unwrapped the jewelry, and he exclaimed, "Why does she get the ring?"

Ginny giggled at his indignance, and opened the ringbox.  It was more lavish than anything she'd ever seen in her parents' possession before, the iridescent silver shining in the warm afternoon light.  The stone was a multi-faceted ruby cut in the distinct shape of a heart and offset by two glittering diamonds, and everyone around her drew in their breaths.  She turned to her parents, wide-eyed.  "It's beautiful," was all she could say.

"I wanted to wait for your time," Molly explained.  "I wanted to see if you were suitable to be the keeper of this ring.  This ring is a symbol of love in its purest form."

          "And its worth a lot," Ron added, sulking a little.

          "My mother gave me this ring," Arthur boomed.  "I wore it on a chain every day of my adolescent life until I met Mol—your mother.  I knew she was the one, and a year before I proposed to her I gave her this ring, to cherish and to keep, and now its your turn to have the ring."

          "Shouldn't the ring be given to a son, then?" Ron persisted, earning a disapproving look from Hermione.

          Molly laughed.  "Ronald, I thought Ginny would appreciate this ring out of everyone else because she's such a romantic."  She paused, smiling lovingly at her daughter.  "And I know she'll take good care of it."

          Ginny slipped the ring onto her fourth finger.  "It's beautiful," she echoed, unable to make another comment.

          This was turning out to be a very good birthday indeed.

~*~

"Bye, Colin."

Ginny shut the door and sank down onto a chair.  It had been a long, exhausting party, fun-filled of course, but she was rather glad it was over.  All she wanted to do was fly back to Malfoy Manor and sleep.  She played with her ring absent-mindedly, the red glowing bright in the lighted room.  But Draco isn't going to be there, she reminded herself dimly, and closed her eyes.  He was so damn confusing, first being rude to her and then sending her that beautiful dress. . .

"Wild party, eh?" Harry's voice interrupted her thoughts.

She sat up immediately, focusing on Harry and what she'd been meaning to say the entire evening.  "You haven't told him?" She hissed.  "What the hell, Harry?"

          "Calm down," He winced, looking very regretful that he'd spoken to her. "You and I just talked two days ago."

          "Two days!" Ginny shrieked.  "That's forty-eight hours!  That's 2,880 minutes!"

          "It hasn't been the right time yet," Harry said feebly.

          "Right time my arse," Ginny huffed.  "You know, you're going to have to tell Ron about what happened with Hermione someday."  Harry's eyes suddenly rounded like two green saucers, and she turned around to see what had alarmed him.

          "Tell me what?" Ron asked.               

~*~

          "And that's all that happened, I swear," Harry finished.  He was sitting nervously in the middle of the Weasley living room, cross-legged beside Ginny.  Hermione, who had been seated near Ron, had inched away uncomfortably and was now staring blankly into the fireplace.

          Ron was silent.  He was taking it rather well, Ginny noted, despite the obvious redness in the face.  His temper was still intact, and so were the things around him.  "Were you ever going to tell me?" He demanded in a low voice, ringed with deathly anger."

          "Of course," Hermione blinked back tears plaintively as she turned her neck.  "Ron, you have to believe me, I never wanted to hurt you I-I love you."

          "Did you love me when you were snogging my best friend?" Ron leapt to his feet, turning a shade so scarlet his freckles were barely visible.

          "It wasn't a snog!" Hermione cried.  She bloody well knew how serious things were as she gazed at Ron, livid and raging throughout the room.  "It was a kiss, a small peck, and—"

          "And what, Hermione?" Ron said sarcastically.  "You were 'thinking' of me the entire time?"

          "Well," she sputtered, "I was.  I mean, I love you Ron.  And there was no entire time, the damn thing lasted like a second!"

          "She's right, you know," Harry supported.

          "Oh you sod off, Potter," Ron seethed.  "I don't even want to talk to you right now, you, you girlfriend-kisser you."

          Ginny leapt in.  "Ron, listen to me, just let it go."

          He narrowed his eyes at his younger sister.  "If you weren't family and if it wasn't your birthday, I swear to Merlin that I'd—"

          "Ron," Ginny rose her voice.  "Hermione loves you, give her a chance, won't you?"

          He fell silent, turning to Hermione who was gazing up at him with wounded eyes.  "You don't understand," he said in a strangled voice, more to Hermione than Ginny.  "Herm and Harry were together for so long, its not-it's not your normal love triangle."

          "Ron, there is no love triangle," Hermione insisted.  "I love you, and only you, and Harry knows that."

          He gazed down at her, and then at Harry.  "Do you still love her?" He asked.

          Harry's mouth opened and closed like a giant fish, and he darted nervously between Ginny, Ron and Hermione.  "No," he finally answered, and the two ladies in the room let out a collective breath of relief.

          "Ron," Hermione ventured, tucking an arm through his elbow.  "I just wanted this out the open, so there'd be no secrets between us.  Can you—can you ever forgive me?"

          He let out a sigh, tucking a strand of her unruly hair behind her ear and pressing his lips to hers gently.  "What's to forgive," he said with a smile.  He grew serious and he added, "But that doesn't mean I'm going to condone it if you do it again.  In fact, it better not happen again."

          Hermione squealed in delight, tossing her arms around his neck, and declared, "I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you, Ron.  I'm just so glad this is all over."

          He disentangled himself, remembering the other two people there around them, and feeling undoubtedly guilty for creating such a scene. "I'm sorry," Ron apologized, drawing Ginny in for an embrace.  "I'm a terrible brother, I just completely ruined your birthday."

          Ginny smiled into his shirt, thinking about the gown Draco had given her, the meticulously crafted ring on her finger, and whispered softly, "On the contrary, this has been the best birthday ever."

~*~

          This time, Ginny made sure to retreat straight to the servant quarters.  She was not getting lost again, no way, no how.  Part of her couldn't be more excited to see the dress again, just to make sure that it was real and that it had really been there instead of some wonderful dream.

          She nearly skipped down the hall.  The only present she'd brought back with her was the ring, and she hadn't many packages to bear.  She never failed to delight in its intricate design, and she'd promised her entire family that it would never leave her finger.

The party was growing nearer, in nearly two weeks, she thought.  Ginny couldn't help but wonder whether Malfoy would be home by then.  A sudden thought crossed her mind, and she panicked as she imagined Draco transferring to Durmstrang.  If he liked it enough there, a patronizing voice in her head teased.  Ginny shook her head, putting him out of her mind as she made a beeline for her room.  But as she passed the den, a flash of white-blond hair caught her eye, and she stopped, peering into the room.

          Her heart thudded.  Ginny could've sworn it skipped a beat, because Draco Malfoy, who was supposed to be in Sweden, was most definitely reclining in his leather chair, a book in hand.  The bandage was gone from his nose, leaving his face once again flawless; she presumed that Narcissa had taken care of it.  

His eyebrows were knitted in concentration as he read and she wanted to speak to him, but was rooted to the ground, admiring the simple grace he exhibited in just turning a page.  Almost subconsciously, Ginny shuffled forward.

          His head snapped up.  "Who's there?" he demanded.

          "Malfoy?" she ventured softly, stepping into the light.

          He relaxed visibly.  "Weasley.  What are you doing here?"

          "I should ask you the same," she returned, tilting her head at him.  

He frowned at her.  "Well, it is _my_ study," he began slowly, "And I'm reading.  In _my _study.  Which, if you've forgotten, is in _my_ house."

Ginny almost made a deragotary comment about his ability to read, but then remembered that he'd probably be Head Boy next year.  Shaking her head, she reminded, "Sweden?"

          "How did you know about that?" Draco said, torn between acting malignant and his own curiosity.

          "Adrienne told me," She replied matter-of-factly.  "So why aren't you there?"

          He shrugged.  "Time is valuble," he remarked with a crooked grin.  "There are some things higher on my list than visit some half-baked relative in Sweden."

          "Such as?"  Her voice was lilting, daring and hopeful all the same.

          He measured her carefully, his mind calculating something she couldn't exactly place.  "Such as the muggle party Mother is making me observe," he said finally, and she felt an onslaught of disappointment overwhelm her.  She didn't exactly know what she'd wanted him to say, but that was certainly not it.

          "Oh." 

          Draco returned to his book.  "You should go now," he said, not looking up.  There was no reply, and when he did glance up she was no longer in front of him.  Funny, he thought, I didn't hear her leave.

          "Malfoy," her voice came from beside him.

          He almost jumped, but regained his composure quickly and instead took to staring at her blankly.  "What."  His voice wasn't exactly warm and welcoming, but it lacked the sharp anger he usually spoke to her with.

          "I wanted to, you know," Ginny paused.  "Thank you.  I love it."

          He narrowed his eyes at her.  "What makes you think the dress was from me?" He asked flatly.

          "Well for one, you wouldn't have known about it otherwise," Ginny pointed out wryly.  Then she relaxed, a small smile appearing at the corners of her lips.  "And anyways," she added softly, "Nobody else calls me Weasel."

          He slouched a little, losing a touch of that cold exterior as he half-smirked, half-grinned at her.  "Well, I figured you'd want it" Draco replied, "and Merlin knows that Potter can't afford it."

"I did want it," Ginny said in the same small voice, willing to let the last Harry comment slide, "but it meant a lot more . . . coming from you."  He raised his head and met her chocolate eyes questioningly.  Gently, Ginny covered his hand with hers, and with a sudden gust of courage, she added quietly, "Draco."

She expected him to jerk away and make some half-witted remark in an attempt to belittle her.  Instead, however, Draco turned over his palm and, slowly lacing his long fingers through hers, lightly, but surely, squeezed.  It wasn't a promise, nor an invitation, nor even an acknowledgement.

But for some reason, it meant the world to her.

He tugged slightly on her hand.  Ginny stepped a little closer, his hazy gray gaze scrutinizing her every move until she was right before him, their faces just inches apart.  Somewhere in the midst of it he got up from the chair, and for a few seconds they stood silent, each wanting something, anything to happen but each afraid of the consequences.

Then suddenly, Draco brought his face down and briefly brushed his lips against hers.  "Happy birthday," he murmured, tenderly placing a finger under her chin and easing her head up to look at him.  He scanned her sparkling brown eyes for a moment, a warm feeling settling within him as a dreamy half-smile appeared on her face.  

Releasing her hand, he moved past her and out the door, leaving her alone in his study with a large, stupid grin upon her face.

~End of Chapter 13

A/N* There!  That is definitely NOT a cliffie, right?  Ah, so many people commented about Draco's slowness in the last chapter.  But the way I figure it is, maybe he doesn't want to come to terms with what's going on?  Haha and sorry to mislead those who thought chapter 13 would continue right off of chapter 12. . . 

In case you're wondering, everything about Louis XIV and his mistress/wife Francoise was true, minus of course the actual ring part.  But the dates are correct, both of them did exist.

**AraelMoonchild** ~ No, the story of their romance ends as their summer does, as I couldn't really call my story Indentured Servitude if she didn't work for him anymore.  BUT!  If there's a sequel, which my betas/muses and I are currently contemplating, it would take place during the school year.  **Liz** ~ I completely agree.  To hell with Hermione.  **Cyn** ~ Ah, but then things would be easy for our favorite couple, wouldn't they?  **Chibi-Chibi Chan** ~ Ooh good point I can see where you're coming from, but Adrienne's supposed to be a couple years older than Draco and Ginny, like in her mid-twenties.  And may I say, you're an amazing reviewer.  Very good inspiration for my writers block.  ^_^

And my, you people have been good with the reviews lately.  Do keep it up 


	14. What Dreams May Come

Disclaimer: not mine  
  
Chapter 14. What Dreams May Come  
  
"Mmmm," Ginny murmured sleepily, turning over in her bed. She'd had the most pleasant dream. She'd dreamt that the beautiful blue dress was hers, and a present from Draco no less, that her mother had presented her with a valuble gem of a ring, and that Draco-well, that was the best part of the dream. He'd been so kind, and gentle, and the kiss had felt so real Ginny sighed contentedly, pressing the pillow to her chest.  
  
She turned her head slightly to the side, away from the blinding sunlight, and gasped. Dangling conspicuously from the chair in her room was a piece of dark ocean blue that could only belong to one item of clothing. Ginny shot up, rubbing her eyes and pinching her arm at the sight of the dress. Something on her hand scraped her face lightly, and she stared in shock at the glittering ruby ring on her finger.  
  
It hadn't been a dream, after all.  
  
Ginny swept down the grand staircase, still pulling her hair into a ponytail as she pattered across the carpet. She needed to find Draco, and she needed to find him fast. Something about the way he'd spoken to her last night was different-he'd been gentle, sweet, quite unlike their usual encounters. In fact, he'd responded to her confession with something other than a stony face. Part of her knew that things would be different this morning, that the denial and mood swings would be back but still, she ached to see him.  
  
"Just where do you think you're going?" Narcissa's cool voice cut into her thoughts, and she glanced up to see the elder woman looking impeccable and elegant, one perfectly arched eyebrow growing higher as she eyed Ginny's garb.  
  
"I was looking for Dra-Young Master Malfoy," Ginny replied.  
  
"You won't find him. He's leaving for Sweden."  
  
"Sweden?" Ginny repeated dumbfoundedly. "But I thought he decided not to go-"  
  
"Yes, well," Narcissa interrupted swiftly, "I am his mother. And my brother wants to see his nephew, so I woke him up bright and early and he's due for departure in oh, ten minutes. In fact, I just left the sitting room, where he was packing."  
  
"But he didn't want to go," Ginny protested feebly.  
  
Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Well, as I've said before, I am his mother, and I have the last word."  
  
"So you forced him?" Ginny couldn't refrain from saying. Her subconscious reminded herself that she was but a maid, yet her heart felt like she was something more. Could she ever be something more to Draco? She wondered fleetingly.  
  
"You could say that," Narcissa didn't seem insulted in the least. "Granted, he didn't want to go, but when he graduates from Hogwarts and finds himself a job then he can have the authority to decline. I almost let him stay home, you know, but last night I thought things over with a clear conscience and I realized that I can't let my son tell me what to do."  
  
A headache was starting to form in Ginny's temples. "Okay," she said slowly, wondering why Draco hadn't told her. "Could you excuse me for a minute?" Not waiting for her response, she made a mad dash to the sitting room.  
  
~*~  
  
"All set," Draco muttered, slinging a suitcase over the sofa. I'm going to bloody Sweden, he grimaced, thanks to my much beloved mother. He was almost regretful that he'd be leaving after telling Ginny that he would stay, but there were so many problems in waking her up to say farewell. First off, she was still asleep and he knew the sight of her in bed was one sure to weaken in his resolve. And secondly, doing so would prove some sort of emotional attachment to the girl, and Draco never developed those.  
  
He dragged the second suitcase to where the first was, and aimed for the door. Startled, he looked up to see Ginny standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, looking confused, happy, and angry all at the same time. "Weasley," He said.  
  
"You're going to Sweden," she said simply.  
  
"Not of my own volition," he shrugged.  
  
"Well, when are you coming back?"  
  
"Precisely ten days," Draco replied, "Four days before the party."  
  
"Oh," her face fell. "I guess-I guess you plan on having loads of fun in Sweden, don't you?"  
  
He missed what she was implying. "Well, yeah, I guess so. Look, Weasley, I really have to get moving."  
  
"Wait," she called, jogging up to him. When he looked at her expectantly, however, she suddenly unsure of how right what she was about to do was, and yet now there really was no backing out. Ginny twisted the ruby ring off her fourth finger and placed it in his hand gently, the contact sending tingles all inside her. "Um, a good luck charm," she explained lamely, "for safe travel."  
  
He scrutinized the ring carefully and then glanced up at her, slightly surprised. "Okay," he said slowly. "Thanks."  
  
Ginny flushed, almost wanting to tell him what the ring was and what it stood for, but she felt it would be like a proclamation of love, and she refrained. Instead, she warned, "Look, Draco, I know you don't want to accept anything from me because God forbid you accept something from a Weasley, but this ring isn't some cheap plastic thing you'd find at the side of the road and-"  
  
"I know, I know," Draco cut her off.  
  
"Take care," she said weakly.  
  
He flashed her a tight smile, his stomach contorting at the sight of her so vulnerable and open. He wanted to reciprocate her feelings, to press against her and tell her that she would be the only person on his mind the entire time, but he just couldn't bring himself to do so. "You too," he finally said, exiting the room.  
  
Ginny sighed. I hope you're thinking about me, Draco, she thought wishfully. It would be a long ten days.  
  
~*~  
  
Thirteen days had passed since her birthday, which meant in turn that it was nearly time for the party. Ginny had been in a planning fury, setting her mind to decorating the Manor and taking care of last minute arrangements. In her vigor, she'd barely seen Draco, which was probably just as well because the encounters they did have made her light-headed and warm, in consequence incapable of concentrating.  
  
He'd been extremely cordial those last few days, pleasant, even. His insults didn't completely diminish but grew more and more half-hearted, to a point where she could find it humorous. Draco never spoke of their kisses in the three times she'd seen him all week. The only time they began to actually discuss the event, Ginny had been whisked away. But his words rang clearly in her head. "I had a lot of thinking to do the time I was in Sweden," he'd said. About what? She mentally asked, knowing full well that alone in the kitchen, asking herself, he'd never answer her thoughts.  
  
Maybe it wasn't meant to be, Ginny thought darkly as she scrubbed patiently at the tile. Narcissa hadn't exactly been in a pleasant mood that morning, and she'd assigned Ginny an extremely long list of things to do. Now, it was nearly time to sleep and there was just one more thing to do.  
  
In the room adjacent to hers, she could make out voices faintly, and she hummed on, trying to ignore them. One of the voices rose. "What the hell!" said what sounded like an indignant Malfoy.  
  
Curious, she rose and moved out the door, quietly trailing to the open door from which the voices were floating and listening intently. "Oh come on," replied another voice, a female voice that sounded strangely familiar. Ginny had definitely heard that voice before, but for some reason she just couldn't place it. Oh gods, she thought with a sickening lurch, and her blood ran cold. What was Blaise Zabini doing here?  
  
"I don't get why we're having the conversation," Draco replied. "You left your cloak here, you've gotten it, and I really am very busy."  
  
"With muggle parties," Ginny could hear the smirk in Blaise's voice. "So I've been informed.  
  
"Rightly so, Zabini, which I must remind you was not my brilliant idea." Then, almost as if he sensed Ginny's presence, he lowered his voice. "Have you forgotten what happened last time?"  
  
"Draco-"  
  
"I haven't." Ginny strained to hear him better, but their voices were so quiet his tone was completely expressionless. "I think it should have happened a long, long time ago, don't you?" Draco asked. Ginny recoiled, backing away from the door like it was poisonous.  
  
It was obvious to Ginny that he was referring to their sex. What else could there be to reminisce about with brainless Blaise? Of course, he'd spent that god-forsaken week with her doing things she blushed thinking about. Oh gods, she thought, clapping a hand over her mouth and tears forming in her eyes. Was this why he had kissed her-was he actually thinking of Blaise? It all made sense to her then, his strange behavior, the way his lps found hers with such passion and then how he'd stiffen the minute she tried to form an "us" with him. That was all she was to him, a replacement for when Blaise was away.  
  
Gods, she felt so bloody stupid. Stupid to think that Draco could ever have feelings for her, stupid to even confess her feelings for him. And the dress-it must have been his guilt, that was all. He was a mindless, heartless prat that had somehow wormed his way into her feelings. In fact, she could bet that the ring she'd so foolishly given him was sitting at the bottom of his sock drawer, or worse, on Blaise's finger. There was no reply from Blaise, and Ginny envisioned them in a heated snog.  
  
She tore away, running down the hall and into her room. Flinging herself on her bed, she let the tears fall freely, wishing to hell that the past few weeks had been a dream so she could just wake up and everything would go away. He'd be so cruel to her when they returned to Hogwarts, she thought morosely. He'd tell everyone that the littlest Weasley had done everything but told him she loved him-that she'd believed for a second she could snag somebody like Draco Malfoy. And how Harry and Ron would react, Ron with that rage which would not comfort her in the least, and Harry with that pity, that terrible, sympathetic pity she was sure to also receive from much of the Gryffindor house.  
  
The hot tears scalding down her cheeks, she closed her eyes, exhausted, body and spirit. Settling in the wake of heartbreak, she let sleep overcome her.  
  
~*~  
  
"Ginny," Adrienne's soft voice came.  
  
Ginny stirred. Was it morning already? She thought, Draco's conversation with Blaise flooding back to her painfully. She glanced out the window, surprised to see the stars twinkling back at her. "Adrienne?" She asked, sitting up. "What time is it?"  
  
"It's nearly midnight," Adrienne said. "I just saw you with the door open, lying on your bed, and you were still fully clothed so I wanted to see if you were okay."  
  
I'll never be okay again, Ginny thought bitterly, biting her lip to keep from crying again. "Yes," She choked out.  
  
Adrienne wasn't convinced. "Well you look terrible," she smiled. "I've drawn up a warm bath for you, and once you get nice and clean you can come here and tell me what's wrong."  
  
A rush of gratitude washed over Ginny as she stepped into the steamy bathroom, stripping of her dingy clothes and settling into the water. Her muscles instantly relaxing, Ginny sank into the sensation and thought, carefully for once, of the past few days she'd spent with Malfoy. But it wasn't her anymore, no she could very well admit to herself that she was beginning to feel for Draco, now it just depended on him.  
  
"Come now," Adrienne said cheerfully when Ginny emerged minutes later, feeling imminently cleaner in her cotton nightgown. "Talking has always made it better, and you look miserable even after that bath." It felt so nice to have someone to which she could confess her true feelings. Hermione and Harry had always been close friends to her, but she was never able to talk about boys, and love, and feelings. Talking about anything secretive with Harry was strange enough for her, as for most of her life she'd been too tied up around him anyways. And Hermione, she was a wonderful friend, nearly a sister to Ginny, but it just felt awkward. This added to the turmoil in her life, as she realized that never before had a friend display such genuine care about her.  
  
"I wish," Ginny said, blinking back tears.  
  
"So what's this all about?" Adrienne prodded.  
  
"Malfoy," she hiccuped.  
  
"Oh," Adrienne said knowingly, gently rubbing her back. "What happened?"  
  
Tearfully, Ginny related the conversation she'd overheard to Adrienne. "I really thought something could happen," she sniffled. "I really thought I could live up to somebody-somebody like Blaise." The afternoon after their first kiss suddenly flittled through her mind, his words ringing loud and stinging in her ears. She's everything you'll never be, you little brat, Ginny recalled, squeezing her eyes closed to shut out the memory.  
  
"Ginny," Adrienne interjected softly, "I don't think Young Mast- Malfoy was talking about shagging Zabini."  
  
She raised watery eyes to meet her gentle gaze. "He was," she insisted sadly. "I know it."  
  
"No," Adrienne explained, "You don't get it. When Malfoy found out that Blaise was responsible for you falling down the cellar, he was livid, furious. He let me attack her without reprimanding me once."  
  
"Adrienne, he kicked me out so he could spend the week with her!" Ginny cried. "I think that says something!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"When he granted me the vacation," Ginny said, exasperated, "He told me it was because-he told me it was because he wanted 'alone time' with Blaise. You know, 'alone time' means 'shag time' when it comes to guys."  
  
Adrienne shook her head slowly. "I don't think so."  
  
"What do you mean, you don't think so. The evidence, it's right there, I mean, he told me himself," Ginny declared.  
  
"No," Adrienne contradicted. "That's impossible, because the night you fell down the cellar he kicked her out of the house."  
  
Ginny fell silent, brown eyes growing large as she sat in limp shock. "He kicked her out?" she repeated.  
  
"That's right," Adrienne confirmed. "He was so mad that something could have happened to you, he told her to pack her bags and leave. You should have see her face, Gin, you really should have."  
  
But Ginny didn't hear a word Adrienne had said. Blaise had left? She thought. Draco had lied to her, then. He'd given her the vacation not because he wanted alone time with Zabini, but evidently because. . .  
  
Her heart dared not to question the possibilities. "I was wrong then," she whispered dazedly. She needed to talk to him, she needed to know why he'd lied and exactly what it was he meant to go by playing these heart games with her. That was it, she thought, no more beating around the bush. They'd gotten through half of the summer never exactly acknowledging their feelings, at least him not to her, and she was going to put an end to it, right there, right now.  
  
"I'll be right back," Ginny promised, leaping off the bed and out the door.  
  
Adrienne smiled after her. "Take your time," she replied.  
  
Ginny eased open the double doors to his room and slipped inside. He was asleep, the thick comforter lying at his hips not covering his bare chest at all. Bathed in the soft moonlight filtered through his window he looked almost innocent, the smallest hint of a smile upon his face.  
  
She almost didn't want to disturb him, he looked so perfect lying there, not a strand of hair out of place even in sleep. But she was not about to let him toy with her any longer, and she marched over to his bedside. She placed two hands on his shoulders, breathing sharply at the feel of his smooth skin under her touch. Quidditch had done his muscles plently of good, and she suddenly saw him through Blaise's eyes: desirable. Ginny refused to let her urges conflict with her resolve, though, as she was here for answers, and she would get them, damnit.  
  
"Draco," She said, shaking his shoulders.  
  
His eyes slid open a little. "Weasley?" he asked groggily.  
  
"Wake up," Ginny commanded, her heart flipping at the sight of him, disheveled and half-asleep but still so breathtaking.  
  
"Weasley, it's late and I'm tired. Go away," he replied, pulling the blankets up over his head.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere," Ginny defied, yanking the sheets down to mid- chest and glaring until he opened his eyes.  
  
"This is a total violation of servant-boss relationships," He grumbled, starting to sit up. "I'm going to see you out to the door right now, since you're obviously not leaving on your own."  
  
"We need to talk, Draco," Ginny insisted, gently pushing him back down.  
  
"Can't this wait until tomorrow?" He demanded, struggling to a sitting position once again.  
  
"No," She said, placing two hands on his chest and shoving him down. She swung a leg up onto the bed and across him, landing on his chest so he was pinned with nowhere to move.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "What's this about?" He asked, impatient, crabby, and undoubtedly tired.  
  
She gazed down at his waiting face, realizing for possibly the millionth time that summer how attractive he was. "You lied to me," She said quietly.  
  
"About?" He furrowed his brow, obviously confused.  
  
"Blaise," Ginny answered simply. The indignant expression vanished, replaced with a mixture of shock and defeat. "You told me you wanted me gone so you could shag Blaise, but you already kicked her out. Now maybe I'm not an expert on the topic, but isn't it pretty hard to shag someone who's mansions away?"  
  
He sighed, bringing his hands to where her own were resting on him and stroking them gently. Her eyes were swollen, and it looked like she'd been crying, but she still looked so beautiful. Okay, he admitted it, he thought she was beautiful. But the strange thing was, she didn't possess the type of beauty the guys ogled at, she certainly didn't possess Blaise's endless legs and ample chest.  
  
But there was something about her, the quiet, simple way her chocolate eyes lit up when she was excited, the way she wore her heart on her sleeve and her temper there alongside that made him weak in the knees. She watched him patiently, her red curls bobbing as she tilted her head, obviously enjoying the touch of his hand but expecting an answer nonetheless.  
  
This girl has feelings for me, Draco told himself, replaying their conversations the previous month. She had confessed it too. It wasn't a first for him, naturally, plenty of women fell for him, but what was first for him was that if he could possibly ever admit it to himself, he was falling for her. That simply didn't happen. Draco Malfoy was never "conquered", so to speak, by women. Especially not this, not when there was more than the plain and simple lust, when he wanted to do so much more than just bed her.  
  
His better senses told him to usher her away before he confessed something himself, but his heart-and yes, he did have one-pushed those away. "It made you jealous didn't it," he said, with curiousity and mischief though there was an undercurrent of seriousness, "the idea of me and Blaise."  
  
"Don't change the topic," Ginny said, swatting him and laughing despite herself.  
  
"Admit it," he challenged.  
  
She paused, debating whether to tell the truth. "Okay," she finally said. "It made me jealous. Now explain why you lied."  
  
Instead of responding, he flipped her over onto her back in one swift movement. "Draco!" She squealed, but was quickly silenced by his lips hungrily seeking hers.  
  
She responded eagerly, hands deftly kneading thorugh his fine hair as she probed his mouth with her tongue. The sensation was astounding, mind- boggling, and one she only experienced with Draco. The mounting tension that had escalated over the past few weeks was suddenly in the narrow space between them, turned into a heated energy as they lay, kissing wildly like the sky would fall the next day.  
  
Tightening his embrace, Draco ran a hand up her side to rest at the nape of her neck. He'd kissed plenty of girls before, but never in his life had he ever felt such passion, such need, such want. He couldn't breathe and yet, he couldn't bring himself to move away from her. It was such a powerful feeling that Ginny radiated, and one Draco had never dealt with before. His logic gone, his mind clouded with thoughts of Ginny, he ignored all reason, pausing only once to say what was on his mind.  
  
"I lied to make you jealous," he said, quietly and directly, and returned to covering her jawline with small, tender kisses.  
  
She sighed from under him, a small sigh filled with content and pleasure, tilting up his face to meet her lips once more. He simply couldn't get enough of her, his hands snaking inside her nightgown as she merged into delirious oblivion, letting him touch her the way nobody had ever before. They must've snogged for at least half an hour in the chamber lighted only by night, drinking each other in and never wanting to let go. Finally he drew back, resting his head against her collarbone and catching his breath in quick pants.  
  
"You really are something, you know that?" He breathed, propping himself up and raining kisses on the shoulder where the strap of her nightgown had conspicuously slid off.  
  
"Then again, so is Blaise," Ginny replied with a teasing grin.  
  
"Jealous, even in moments like this," he smirked, nuzzling her neck.  
  
His hair tickled. "Moments like what?" She asked, gently placing a hand on his chest to catch his gaze.  
  
"So you admit it, then," he deflected her question with expert ease, the desire not completely gone from voice. "You're jealous of Blaise."  
  
"Why should I be? There's only one thing I truly want, and she most definitely doesn't have it," Ginny whispered.  
  
"And what's that?" He prompted, though the glint in his silver eyes told her he already knew. This time, Ginny was the one who silenced him, covering his mouth with her own, the protest dying from his lips. "No fair," he murmured when the kiss ended.  
  
He rolled onto his back, pulling Ginny atop him, and they lay in harmonious silence, redhead against blond, fire against ice. The coverlet remained twisted firmly around Draco's torso, exposing only the green waistband of his silk pajama pants. Ginny found this particularly enticing, that he'd stay faithful to the color even away from Hogwarts, and she played with the strings, her fingers lazily tracing across his taut stomach.  
  
She could have lain like that forever, her ear against his chest, listening to the soft patter of his heart and feeling his hands idly fondling her back under the thin cotton of her nightgown. It took a great deal of self- control to slide out of his arms, and that self-control took nearly an hour to muster.  
  
He was already asleep, she noticed with a small smile, touching a hand to her kiss-stung lips. "I should go," Ginny said softly, more to herself than him. Planting a tender kiss against his temple, she stood up as gingerly as possible. She smoothed the covers for an excuse to linger and gaze at him for just one more second and then turned to leave.  
  
He caught her hand. "Stay," he whispered, voice thick with slumber.  
  
She opened her mouth to protest, but her mind refused to raise one good argument. Wordlessly, he pulled her down under the covers, and she lied stiffly next to him, his body radiating warmth. Then Draco shifted, moving their bodies closer so she was nestled safe and warm in the crook of his arm. His legs scissored into hers, a silken-clad calf resting comfortably between her knees like it belonged there, like he belonged in her arms.  
  
Who would have predicted, Ginny thought wonderously, gazing at the sleeping form beside her, that I could feel so secure with someone like like Draco Malfoy. "Good night," she sighed, bringing her arms around him and snuggling into the comforting scent that was Draco.  
  
"Good night, Ginny," he murmured sleepily.  
  
Her eyes flew open at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. "Draco?" She whispered in surprise.  
  
He let out a soft snore.  
  
"Love is when you don't want to fall asleep because reality is better than a dream."  
  
~*~  
  
For the second time in her life, Ginny woke up in Draco Malfoy's bed. She was starting to see the upside of wealth, that was for sure, loving the feel of his sheets against her skin. It wasn't one of those mornings where she wondered exactly where she was waking up. Draco hadn't left her dreams all night, and he stayed prominent in her mind as she woke.  
  
Turning to her side, Ginny noted with a twinge of disappointment that he wasn't in bed alongside her. She sat up slowly, remembering the previous night with a silly smile on her face, relishing the taste of his lips, the scent of his skin. Never in her life had she felt so comfortable, so safe, nor so content, and she could swear that sleeping in such close proximity, some part of her dream was bound to have actually occurred.  
  
She'd actually woken up halfway during the night, satisfied just watching him doze. She was transfixed by the consistent rise and fall of his chest, the way his hand would absently massage her skin as they lay entwined in the sheets. And when she'd leaned forward to peck him gently, he had deepened the kiss even in sleep, so much that Ginny wanted to wake him and ask who he was dreaming about, a fleeting panic of paranoia setting in once more. Then he'd murmured her name, and she'd never cherished the sound more.  
  
But he'd left already, leaving her to wonder whether he'd watched her sleep also. She wished he would've waited for her to awake, imagining that it would've been a rather pleasant experience waking up with Draco Malfoy, as ridiculous as it sounded. Ginny felt quite alone in his enormous bedroom, and she glanced around, unsure of what to do. The air in the chamber was cooled rather well, and she shivered slightly as she drew herself out from under the covers.  
  
Lying on the pillow beside her-Draco's pillow, was an emerald satin robe, the Slytherin mascot upon the breast pocket and silver trimming all over. Next to it was a single red rose, and a small note scribbled hastily that read "It gets cold in this room." A smile touched her lips at his thoughtfulness, though if she ever tried to call him on it he'd stiffen up as usual. She suspected that his phobia of pleasantries contributed to why he had left so early, as she had taken to observing his unfamiliarity with the thank yous and you're welcomes.  
  
Ginny slipped into his robe, wondering if it was a crime to feel so natural in his belongings, and swung her legs over the bed. She was extremely surprised to see a small silver tray resting on the bedside table, filled with tea and sweet-smelling pound cake. Sitting back down onto the bed, she stared dumbly at the food, which Draco had undoubtedly prepared for her.  
  
The door swung open, and Ginny stared at it with both apparition and hope, hope that it would be Draco and apparition that someone should find her in such a compromising situation, wearing his robes after having obviously slept in his bed. Seeing it was Adrienne, Ginny wasn't sure whether to hide or laugh.  
  
Evidently, Adrienne was thinking the same thing. She took in the scene before her, her gaze lingering on Ginny's wild hair, and chose the latter. "You slut!" She gasped between giggles, collapsing on the floor.  
  
Ginny colored visibly. "It's not what you think," she defended hotly. "I-he-we-"  
  
"You spent the night," Adrienne's blue eyes were dancing with merriment, obviously enjoying how uncomfortable Ginny felt. "My gods, I hope you used protection. We don't need a young lass like you getting knocked up, now do we?  
  
"Adrienne!" Ginny cried, aghast. "Nothing happened, I swear."  
  
"Sure," Adrienne replied once she regained her breath. "You just spent the night with a gorgeous bloke who sleeps half-naked that's as crazy about you as you are him, and you're telling me nothing happened?  
  
"Yes!" Ginny nearly shouted, then frowned. "How do you know he sleeps half-naked?"  
  
"I didn't until now," Adrienne replied slyly.  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes, heaving a pillow at the older girl. "I swear that nothing happened," she insisted.  
  
Adrienne held up a hand in defeat. "Okay, okay, I believe you. You don't seem like that type of girl, anyways." She picked up one of Draco's shirts from the floor and wrinkled her nose. "I bet he'll spend the entire night dancing with you," she sighed.  
  
Ginny's eyes grew large. "Oh gods, I totally forgot that tonight is the muggle party."  
  
Adrienne chuckled. "After all that planning, too," she said. "Young Master Malfoy must be a hell of a kisser then."  
  
"Adrienne, you don't get it," Ginny was panicking now. "I don't have anything to wear, and I don't exactly have galleons to spare either."  
  
"What about that gorgeous gown hanging in your room?" Adrienne suggested.  
  
"He's seen that," Ginny shook her head. "I want to wear something he's never seen before, something that will totally surprise him. What am I going to do?"  
  
"Relax," the older girl replied. "There's a muggle store that's close to Diagon Alley where you can rent gowns and suits for a fractional price. We'll go there as soon as you get out of that," she assured, pointing to Draco's robe. "Unless, of course, you have other plans with Mister Malfoy today."  
  
"I'm telling you, I'm not sleeping with Draco Malfoy!" Ginny squealed, sending a series of pillows flying across the room, just as somebody stepped in the room. Both girls went silent in horror as they went flying into a shock of blond hair and the victim tumbled to the ground.  
  
"Madame Malfoy?" Adrienne squeaked.  
  
~End of Chapter 14  
  
A/N* Me and my cliffies. . .actually the original version of this chapter did NOT end that way. . .that one stopped at his snoring, but I decided to be so kind and add that last lil tidbit hahaha. But there you go, the scene that could have had so much smut potential. And no, they did not have sex (in case it wasn't clear). You can imagine yourself what else they were doing during their snog session, but I'm not going into detail ^_^. Hmm I remember noting in chapter 8 that Blaise would return, and I guess this wasn't exactly a "big return" lol. Okay see the thing is I write parts of future chapters as they come to mind, and originally, there was a confrontation between Ginny and Blaise, and she played a large part in this chapter. But as I neared the finish, I felt it would be better for Ginny to just overhear their conversation.  
  
For those who are wondering, there are exactly 16 chapters in this story, so 2 chapters left! ::grins:: But (and a 'but' with many heartfelt apologies) the next two weeks are right before my school resumes, which means FMP training sessions, registrations, and last few days to hang out with friends without worrying about impending homework. I'm therefore (and regretfully) forced to break my once a week update pattern ~ chapter 15 (the penultimate chapter!) will be up in about two weeks or so, maybe sooner. Now, aren't you glad I made this chapter almost twice as long? XD  
  
And I do believe that review button is waiting. . . 


	15. Dance With Me

Disclaimer: not mine, not mine.  Btw the song in here is Jessica Simpson's "I Wanna Love You Forever" which is also, consequently, not mine.

Chapter 15.  Dance With Me

          Adrienne recoiled.

          She and Ginny watched with bated breath as the pile of pillows and black robes wriggled, a blond head finally emerging from underneath the fabrics.  "What the hell?" Draco said, popping up and surveying the mess in his room with amused eyes.  "Aren't you supposed to clean my room, not the other way around?"

          Ginny nearly collapsed in laughter, relieved beyond words that it wasn't Narcissa.  "Merlin," she wheezed.  "It's just you."

          Draco feigned hurt, brushing himself off as he whipped the pillows onto his bed.  "What do you mean, it's just me?"

          "I thought it was your mother," Ginny gasped for breath.  "I thought I was done for."

          He duly waited for her to stop laughing, and smirked dangerously when she did just that.  "You've been a bad girl, have you, Miss Weasley?" He said in a low voice that sent shivers all throughout her body.

          Adrienne nearly doubled over and Ginny face looked properly shocked at the implications, but then melted into a impish smile.  "You want to punish me for that, Mr. Malfoy?"

          If it was possible, Draco seemed even more startled that she had.  "Stop, stop," Adrienne interrupted before he could retort.  "You guys are making me sick.  If you want to shag, do it when I'm not around, please."

          "It's not my fault you happen to be here," Draco pointed out devilishly, earning a horrified snort from Ginny.  "Besides, you sure you don't want to watch?"

          "Draco!" Ginny cried, forcing the smile from her lips.

          He rolled his eyes.  "You women," he said.

          "We women," Adrienne cut in, "are going shopping.  Isn't that right, Ginny?"

          Draco's gaze darted between them.  "You're kidding, right?" He said skeptically.

          "Not a bit," Ginny replied.  "Is there a problem?"

          "It's the muggle party," he reminded.

          "We'll be back before it starts," Ginny promised, and Adrienne tugged at her arm.

          "And my room?" Draco gestured to the heaps of linens and pillows.

          "Someone else will clean it," Adrienne assured, pulling at Ginny one last time as they disappeared out the door.

          Draco stared after the girls, befuddled and reprieving himself for allowing them to leave.  He sank into the neat table beside his bed and rubbed his temples gently.  Why hadn't he demanded they stay home? He thought.  And why had he been so publicly flirtatious with Ginny?  There was a small sound, and he opened his eyes to see the very person on his mind standing a bit nervously before him.  "I thought you left."

          She blushed, and he couldn't help thinking how cute she seemed.  "I wanted to say bye properly," she ventured, and timidly bent down to place a chaste kiss upon his lips.  At least that was what she'd intended it to be, but when she drew back, he reached out and clamped slender fingers upon her neck, pulling her down into his lap and encircling her midsection with his free hand as he ravaged the warm wetness of her mouth.  Kissing Draco was never a dull experience for her, and it took minutes before she finally did pull away, knowing very well she was on the brink of losing consciousness.

          "Bye," he murmured, and crushed his mouth to hers once more.

          "Draco," she said breathlessly.  "I'm not going anymore if we keep this up."

          He shrugged.  "And the problem is?" He moved to seek out her lips, and after a blissful moment she reluctantly scrambled off him.

          "I need to go," Ginny whispered.  "I promise I'll be back in time for the party, Draco."

          And for the first time, their parting was not one filled with anger.

~*~

          "Morning, Mother," Draco called as he strolled down the steps into the grand parlor where she was seated, daintily sipping tea.

          Narcissa raised a thin blond eyebrow.  "You seem awfully. . .cheerful," she noted, setting down her newspaper gently and turning her inquisitive blue stare upon him.

          Draco scowled.  If anything, he despised being called cheerful.  Cheerful was for children and Gryffindors, not Malfoys.  "I am _not_ cheerful," he said acidly.  "I am never cheerful."

          There was no response from his mother, who simply glanced at him dubiously.  "If you say so," she said after a pregnant pause.  

          His scowl deepened.  "Well then," was all he said as he turned to leave.

          "Draco," Narcissa called.  "Wait.  I've been meaning to talk to you, but things have been so busy lately."

          "Yes?" Draco bit his lower lip as she slowly took a sip of tea.

          "Have you thought about marriage lately?" She asked, as if it was utterly normal to be speaking of marriage with a seventeen-year-old boy.

          Like she expected, Draco blanched.  "Marriage?" He repeated dumbly.

          "Listen," Narcissa lowered her voice.  "I think you should start dating, seriously."  As his eyebrows grew higher, she suppressed a smile.  "I think you should see more of that Bulstrode girl.  She comes from a very privileged family, you know."

          "Millicent Bulstrode?" Draco choked.

          Narcissa smiled pleasantly.  "Draco, I just want you to remember, that whatever you do, someone is always watching."

          "What?" He demanded.

          She continued as if he had never spoken.  "I would hope that your father has taught you well after all these years, to make choices that are. . .appropriate and wise.  Surely you understand my reasoning?"

          Draco frowned.  "Mother," he said politely, "If you would do to be a little less cryptic, as I haven't much time.  And you know what Father says, time is money."

          "Yes, yes," Narcissa replied fondly.  "You may go.  Except—"  Draco turned around once more and stared at her expectantly.  Though he resembled his father more closely, he saw the same pointed face structure reflected in his mother.  In truth, he would've looked quite like her had it not been for her thin lips and pale blue eyes.

          "Except?" He prompted.

          "Remember, Draco," Narcissa said, her voice soft and low.  "You're a Malfoy.  Malfoys don't associate with just anyone."  And then her smile became bright.  "That is all."

          More perplexed than ever, Draco strolled away and locked himself in his grand marble bathroom.

          The sink faucet squeaked as he turned it on, but Draco was too confused to care.  Could she have known about Ginny?  He splashed his face with icy water and leaned back against the smooth emerald tiles of his magestic bathroom.  His mother was right, after all, Weasleys were such. . .muggle-loving folk.  Their friends didn't run in the same circles, nor did their families, and yet, to just cut things off was suddenly a bit difficult for him.  What the hell had happened to him?  He was Draco fucking Malfoy, sex god of Slytherin.  He did not let girls, especially freckled Weasleys, get the best of him.

          But as he hated to admit it, the little weasel had somehow softened that spot in his heart he didn't know existed anymore.  The innocent way she kissed, and her honest smiles, they drove him mad, really.  He didn't _want_ to hurt her, but he already had.  _And if this continues, it'll get worse_, he told himself firmly.

          He would tell her tonight.

~*~

          "No, no, no and no!"

          "Come on," Adrienne wheedled.  "You look gorgeous and you know it."

          "I look naked," Ginny shrieked.

          Adrienne rolled her eyes.  "And your point is?"  She received a dark glare, and sighed in resignation.  "Look," she finally said, calmly turning the redhead in the direction of the mirror.  "What do you see?"

          "I see a girl in a piece of cloth who would be mutilated if any of her brothers or parents saw her," Ginny scowled.

          "Wrong," Adrienne beamed.  "You see a blossoming young girl in a beautiful dress that just happens to show off some of her newly acquired assets."

          Ginny frowned at her chest.  "My freckled assets."

          "Point," Adrienne declared.  "It's a beautiful dress.  You know you like it.  And besides, who's going to see you?"

          "Draco," Ginny reminded.

          "Right," Adrienne winked.  "And somehow, I doubt he's going to mind.  You wanted to blow him away, remember?  Which is why you refused to wear that gown he gave you.  Well, this will blow him away, I guarantee."

          Ginny made a gurgling noise at the back of her throat and returned to eyeing the spectacle her reflection was presenting.  She would admit that there was an instant attraction to the gown, with it's sweeping scarlet folds and deep, plunging neckline.  Somehow, dolled up in the dress obviously not made for someone her age she felt wanted, seductive even, and much less like the innocent youngest Weasley everyone made her out to be.

          "It's a change," she admitted.

          "A pleasant change," Adrienne corrected.

          Ginny whimpered.  "I still don't know."

          "Come on," Adrienne urged.

          She bit her lip, imagining the feral look in Draco's glinting silver eyes everytime they snogged, almost feeling the burning touch of his fingers and the way she yearned for him, the way he could stir primitive, carnal feelings deep within her that she never knew possible.  "Okay," she finally said.

          Boy, he better appreciate this.

~*~

          Ginny craned her neck, searching for a glimpse of Draco's silver blond head, but there existed no presence in the room even remotely close to rivlaing his.  She took another small, polite sip of her bubbly champagne and adjusted the uncomfortable corset of her gown as inconspicuously as possible.  The dress had been a horrid idea, as not only was it demandingly suffocating, she felt very much naked under the leering eyes of perverse muggle men.

          She noticed then a dark-haired muggle guest threading his way towards her with an appreciative glint in his blue eyes that Ginny most certainly did not appreciate.  To her apparition, she realized that the distinguished young man was seeking her out for a dance.  

It wasn't that he repulsed her, this particular guest was actually handsome, though in a classic, conventional.  But in no way could he take her mind off of Draco's breathtaking features.  Too late she realized that she'd wasted the precious time to scurry away by comparing the two men, wondering how she'd ever had eyes for other males with Draco around.

"Hullo there, beautiful," the man said in what she presumed to be a suave voice, his gaze straying more southward than she would've liked.  Ginny flashed him a tight smile, scanning the room for someone she knew, but failed to find anyone.  "I'm Grant," he continued, either not noticing or ignoring her stiffness.  "I saw you staring at me across the room, so I thought I'd give you a close up view."

He must have seen her looking for Draco, Ginny realized.  "I don't think I was staring at you—" she began.

"It's okay, love," he interrupted, winking and casting another glance at her chest.  "I guess I'm used to it."  She started to sputter in indignition, but then his hand closed down on her arm.  "All that can be cured with a healthy dose of Grant," he said, motioning towards the dance floor.

Ginny wrinkled her nose.  "Um, I don't think so."

The other hand attached itself on the small of her back.  "Very funny," he laughed without mirth, drawing her towards the band.

"I'm serious," she protested.  Instead of answering, he swung her around, tightening his grip as she wriggled in his arms.

"You can't be," he hissed, his touch starting to hurt.  Swaying to the music, he moved five lithe fingers down to her rear, and she squirmed uncomfortably, freeing an arm to readjust his.  Grant pressed his elbow sharply against her abdomen, causing a searing flash of white pain to knife through her.  The fleeting panic that overtook her senses lessened this movement, and Ginny briefly considered screaming.  That would, however, more or less ruin the party, and she thought to other ways of ridding herself this creep.

"Mind if I cut in?" A smooth voice interjected, and Ginny nearly collapsed with relief as she saw Draco staring pointedly at where Grant's hand was resting.

He stopped dancing, pulling back and eyeing the tall blond before him, looking impeccable as always but his silver eyes serious.  "Actually, I do," Grant replied darkly.  Draco stepped closer, glancing quickly at Ginny's pleading expression before sneering at the muggle.  Though Grant was a good inch taller, he seemed to suddenly shrink under Draco's steely scrutinizing.  Ginny could feel his fear, and taking advantage of his weakened state, she fled to Draco's side, fitting her palm into his.

"Well, it doesn't seem that she minds," Draco smirked, making Ginny question how the hell he was so bloody calm all the time.  Grant reddened in helpless anger, muttering obsenities as he stalked away.

Ginny watched him for a second, and then flung her arms around Draco, burying her face in his cologne-scented suit, her chest heaving with silent gratefulness.  He staggered back slightly from her unexpected weight, but recovered with ease, his arms enveloping her in comfort.

They stayed like that for a while, and Draco made no motion to step away.  He seemed to understand that she needed to recollect her thoughts, and that for the moment, she needed the security of his arms.  Ginny finally did pull back, her fingers not yet ready to release his sleeves as she admired his elegance.  He was so gorgeous, she thought, taking in the well-fitted black blazer and trousers, the perfect strands slicked back in his usual coif, shorter since he just had it trimmed.

"Enjoying the view?" He said, gray eyes lighter than they had been during the confrontation and glittering with amusement.

"Very much so," she responded softly, letting go with reluctance.  Glancing around her, she watched the blissful couples move in tune with the music.  "It seems everyone but us is dancing," she commented.

He quirked an eyebrow at her attempted subtleness.  "Are you trying to ask me to dance?" He said in a slightly constricted, though overall amused voice.

She blushed.  "I'm not too smooth with words."

From the corner of his eye, he observed her, a red flush crawling into her already rosy cheeks, making her look happy and all the more radiant. Stop, Draco told himself, hearing his mother's voice echoing in his head.  But one dance wouldn't hurt, would it?  One last dance.  "Well then," Draco said silkily in the same voice that had made many females swoon before, "Dance with me?"

A sweet smile spread across her face.  "I thought you'd never ask," she breathed, and he swept her away.  The music Adrienne had chosen was muggle music, and she very well hadn't heard it before but she didn't particularly care.  Wrapping her arms around him, she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, sinking in to the sensation only he could provide.

          "_You set my soul at ease, chased darkness out of view,"_ the record sang, and Draco trailed his hands across her back, ridding of all space that had previously been between them.

          _"Left your desparate spell on me, say you feel it too I know you do."_

          "You look beautiful," Draco whispered in her ear, surprising even himself.  IT wasn't often that he complimented women.  Ginny curled her fingers around the smooth hair that rested sleek against the nape of his neck.  "Everyone in this room is staring at you."

          _"I wanna love you forever, and this is all I'm asking of you."_

          "They're staring," Ginny murmured, "Because of who I'm dancing with."

          _"Cuz from the moment that I saw your face, and felt the fire of your sweet embrace.  I swear I knew, I wanna love you forever_."

          "Ginny," Draco said quietly, and she sighed in his arm, thinking she would never stop cherishing the sound of her name from his lips.

_          "What my heart tells me to do and I'd give up all I have just to be with you."_

"Mmm?"

          _"Now I only want to be right where you are."_

          "Ginny, this is never going to work," Draco's voice sounded pained.

          She felt like she was floating, and his words didn't quite register in her mind.  "What is?"

          _"Because when I'm with you there's nowhere else that I would ever wanna be, no, I'm breathing for the next second I can feel you loving me."_

          "You, me, us."

          _"I'm gonna love you forever."_

The music stopped, and so did the moment.  Ginny stared up at him, her brown eyes surprised and confused.  The noise around them seemed to suddenly vanish, and her mouth fell open in disbelief.  His words rang in her ears, but she just couldn't bring herself to accept them.  "Draco?"

He sighed heavily.  "Ginny, this won't, this won't work and you know it.  You and I, we're two different people, we come from two different worlds and that is never going to change."

"So you're just going to give up, just like that?" She cried.  "You're not even going to make a try at it, it's not even worth it?  I'm not even worth it?"

His eyes hardened.  "Look, Ginny," he said, trying to sound cold but failing miserably.  "I'm not going to lie and tell you that these past few weeks have meant nothing to me."  He took a deep breath.  Gods, he was terrible at expressing emotion.  "But you know that nothing could ever come of this, think about it."

"Why?" She demanded, no longer succeeding at remaining careless.  "Am I not good enough for you?  I'm not enough like Blaise?  Is that it?"

He stroked her cheek, feeling the wetness of her tears.  "I don't want Blaise," he replied quietly.  "I never have."

"Then what, Draco?  What do you want?  Because it's obviously not me."  People began to stare curiously at her, but only Draco, if blurred, was in her line of vision.  It was such a helpless feeling that he aroused within her, after spending so much time around him she couldn't even imagine feeling somebody else's lips upon hers.

"I want things to be the way they used to be," he replied tonelessly.  "Before you came here, before I—"  He stopped, realizing abruptly that he was about to say before he fell for her, and stepped back even further.  She gaze up at him with watery brown eyes, her soft lips, those lips he'd kissed so fervently before, parted in anguish and shock.  Had he truly _fallen_ for a Weasley?  He, a Malfoy, who never let himself fall for anyone of the opposite sex, had not only broken his principles, he'd done so for his family's worst enemy.

"Draco," she whispered disbelievingly.

"Look, Ginny," he said in a tired voice.  "Look at this, look at us now.  We're always arguing, it never ceases."

"We weren't arguing a few minutes ago," she pointed out.

"We weren't talking either," he replied.  "Whenever we talk, we argue.  Isn't that true?"

A wistful smile graced her lips, and she stood up on her tip toes to brush them against his.  "Then we don't talk," she murmured.  "I'm fine with that."

He moved away.  "Ginny," he said warningly.  "This isn't what you want.  This isn't what _I_ want."

          "Then—then why did you kiss me?" Ginny asked brokenly.  "And hold me, and ask me to stay with you?"

          There was a bitter taste upon his lips.  He wanted to reach out and tell her he was sorry, he wanted to take back everything he'd ever said to hurt her but the words that spewed out were the complete opposite.  "You were—you were convenient."

          And then something in her face clicked, she realized he wasn't toying with her anymore, that their friendly banters had come to an end.  "I don't mean anything to you?" Her voice cracked.  "Not anything at all?"

          "If I tell you yes, will you go away?"  Part of him prayed she would fight him, and another hoped she would relent.

She heaved a sigh.  "You know, Draco Malfoy, I thought you had changed," she finally said, opening her eyes and glaring at him accusingly.  "I thought that this wonderful person I spent the last few weeks with, this person who could make me feel things I never thought possible, was no longer the shallow, vengeful Slytherin I knew back at Hogwarts.  But once again, I was wrong."

A lump formed in his throat.  "I just don't get it," Ginny continued, neither beseeching him nor reprimanding him.  "I don't get you, how you're hot one minute, and cold the next, how you can't make up your damn mind, ever.  And you're right.  It's never going to work, but only because you won't let it work."  Her tone was so quiet, so gentle, and so helpless Draco felt a pang of guilt, for perhaps the first time in his life.

She turned on her heel, prepared to flee, and a loud voice rang out.

"Avada Kedrava!"  

~ End of Chapter 15

A/N* Yes one LAST cliffie for this story XD there is ONE chapter left! And I'm almost done with that chapter so. . .^_^ ::giggles giddily::

Btw **blackbow **~ thanks for the tip lol I'll keep that in mind.  Love learning new terminology =D tossers muahaha I like it!  

And another thing ~ I don't know how many of you read my other story (Masquerade) but since school is starting next week and the style is a bit different from this story I'm in need of a new beta, so if any of you wouldn't mind doing that do drop me a note.  But as for now…review?  =D


	16. After the Storm

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

A/N* AND VIOLA! THE LAST CHAPPIE!  First of all I wanted to address some reviews I had that said the last chapter was cliché, and in all honesty, I agree with you.  I'm sorry if that chapter wasn't up to par or what not, but I really was getting tired of the story so yeah, I understand if you didn't like it because I didn't like it too much myself, and thanks for being honest.  Anyways, I hope this chapter is somewhat better (though I can't guarantee that.) I'm just so glad I'm done!

Chapter 16. After the Storm

          "Avada—"

          When Draco was a child, his father had drilled into him the importance of quick reflexes, of thinking on his feet.  And though they came in properly useful during quidditch, Draco had never related them to a life or death situation.  As if everything occurred in slow motion, he heard the words being uttered, saw Ginny move towards the door, and without a second thought he hurled himself at her.

          "Ked—"

          She turned in apparition now, her stricken gaze directed at wherever the voice was coming from.  Draco landed atop her, knocking both of them to the ground and startling numerous guests.

          "—Drava!"

          He squeezed both eyes shut, waiting for the flash of light that was bound to come as Ginny wriggled a bit beneath him.  But there was none, and after a few moments of shocked silence he rolled off her, directing his perplexed gaze around the room.  "Young master Malfoy!" One of the maids exclaimed, rushing to his side and shooting him a meaningful stare.

          Draco pulled himself to his feet with all the dignity he could muster in the circumstances and turned to offer Ginny his hand.  "What's going on?" She ventured, ignoring his gesture.  A murmur rushed through the crowd, the guests obviously nearly as confused, and Ginny cleared her throat anxiously.  "Um," she started, "I swear that I heard the killing—"

          "I tripped," Draco said suddenly, nodding an apology.  The chattering resumed then, a few bemused looks still tossed their way but mostly relief apparent on the faces of their audience.

          "I heard it," Ginny insisted, refusing to look him in the eye.

          "I know," he said.  "That stupid muggle over there was reading off of Father's plaque.  I don't think he knew what he was saying."

          Ginny followed his gaze.  "Figures your father would have the killing curse engraved in stone," she returned snidely.  "Was it to suit his nature, or does Voldemort require it of all Death Eaters?"

          Draco flinched visibly.  "Funny that you should be the one who speaks that name."

          "Like you don't hear it often enough around here?" Ginny tilted her chin.  He fell silent, neither berating her nor denying the accusation, and she sighed heavily.  "Why did you cover me?"

"I—" Draco frowned.  Why had he?

"Never mind," she shook her head, longing evident in her eyes.  "I'm just setting myself up for disappointment by thinking that you cared.  You don't care about anyone but yourself."  Drawing in a long, shuddery breath, she threw her shoulders back and brushed past him.

"Where do you think you're going?"  He demanded, still recoiling from the sting of her words.

          "Out," was her short reply.

          "It's raining," he pointed out.

          "Why do you care?" She demanded.  "I'm nothing to you, remember?  Nothing.  Nada.  Zilch.  So go back to your expensive party and beautiful house and leave me the hell alone."  She snatched the hem of her skirt violently and stalked out the door, either not noticing the storm raging outdoors or feeling too enraged to let rain stand in the way of wallowing in utter misery.

          This time, Draco went after her.

~*~

          Fortunately, Ginny had stalked into the Malfoy gardens.  Unfortunately, it was arranged in the shape of a maze.

          He found her nearly twenty minutes later, standing where the hedges emptied out to the lake, dripping wet and stonily watching the patter of drops against the calm waters, gray by the darkening sky.  Her brows were knitted in deep rumination and he hesitated, digging his fingers through his dripping hair and feeling pangs of random guilt at her heartbroken expression.

          "Ginny," he called, striding towards her before he had a chance to back out.

          She turned towards him as a flicker of hope appeared in her eyes, and then it was replaced with anger.  "Go away," she said blankly.

          He reached out for her.  "Ginny," he tried again.

          "Stop it, just stop," she said, and he wasn't able to tell whether the streaks running down her cheeks were tears or rain.  "What's wrong with you Draco?  Didn't you rub it in my face enough that I don't mean anything to you?"

          "I don't—"

"And I bet that ring didn't even mean anything to you," Ginny sobbed, swiping absently at her face.  "Did you even bloody know what that was?  That was the goddamn 'Le Feu du Soleil' created by the bloody Sun King for his lover, okay?  And Gods, why did I give it to you I don't even know, I mean you get jewelry from girls probably everyday and—"

          He jerked her close violently and mashed his lips against hers.  She was still sniffling when he drew back, and he slipped his hand inside his wet shirt, pulling out the silver chain around his neck.

          And on that silver chain, was the ring.

          "I wear it close to my heart," he whispered gruffly, "because it means the world to me.  Just like the person who gave it to me."

          "Why did you say—"

          "Gin, you know I've never been eloquent with words, nor have I been particularly good with emotions," Draco said helplessly.

          Wordlessly, she took the ring into her hand and fingered the stone.  "I do mean something to you then?" She asked wondorously, glancing up at him.

          "More than you'll ever know."  Draco murmured, catching her lips in another passionate kiss.  "But I was serious when I said that this is never going to work, Gin," he murmured into her wet hair.  "Your brother, your parents, my parents, the Gryffindors, the Slytherins. . ." his words caught in his throat, and he tightened his arms.

          "We can make it work," Ginny persisted softly.  "And we don't have to tell them yet.  I'm not saying it'll be easy, because it won't be, but I know it'll work because. . ." She trailed off, resting her head into the damp cloth of his robe.

          "Because?" he prompted gently.

"Because I love you, Draco," she whispered into his robe.

          His head whipped up, and he stepped back, cupping her chin and tilting her head tenderly.  "You don't know what love is, how can you?  You—you barely know me."

          Ginny raised a hand to his cheek, wiping the rain away from the mouth she adored so much.  "Maybe I don't know what love truly is," she admitted.  "But I do know that when I'm with you, it doesn't matter.  If this isn't love, then fuck love, I don't need it.  All I need is you."

His face was blank, but his eyes smiled.  "You don't have to worry," he said quietly, "because you have me."

Her eyes filled with tears once again.  It seemed she cried over everything lately, but this time she wasn't grieving.  She knew he wouldn't proclaim his love for her on one knee, and she was fine with it.  This was the way Draco was, the way he took things, and that sentence, that reassurance was enough for her because she knew he understood, and she knew that the feelings were mutual.  Her hands entangled in his hair as she moved in for another kiss, the remnants of the storm dripping down their faces, intermingling so she couldn't tell which was sweeter, the rain or his lips.

It was the kiss she'd waited her entire life for, the one she'd always expected would come from Harry and now, with Draco's mouth upon her hers, she couldn't imagine sharing such a moment with anyone else.  It was a different kiss, really, not because lacked the passion the predecessors had carried, that was, after all, something she never had to worry about with Draco.  No, there was something else in this kiss, an indescripable feeling the tender movements of his tongue and lips caused to bubble in her stomach.  She loved it, just as she loved him, and she clung on to him tightly, wishing she could stand there forever in the rain with him.

It ended all too soon, but Ginny wasn't nearly as disappointed, as she knew there would be many more to come.  He didn't release her, instead burying his head in her hair.  "Oh, and Draco?" She murmured as his lips found her neck, "I refuse to work for you again."

          He pulled back to catch her sparkling brown gaze. "But I'm sure we can find other uses for your maid uniform while you're here," he replied huskily.

          Ginny smiled then, her smile stretched across her face, nearly splitting it in two, a truly genuine, comforting smile that he and only he could invoke.  Draco slid his arm around her waist, drawing her in close, and they headed inside.

          Together.

          FIN

News, Notes, and an Alternative Ending 

ITS OVER! ITS OVER! ITS OVER! ::jumps up and down with loud, emphasized squeals::

Okay news first: There is possibly a sequel ~ I've started writing random snapshots, but as I've also started another story and I desparately need a hiatus from this plotline, it probably won't be up until September or October, at the earliest.  It'll be called 'Sunfire' so look for that eventually haha.  For now I'm just working on Masquerade and Peripheral Vision, some random one-shots and a bit of the sequel whenever I have time. School has officially started, so its nearly impossible to write as fast.  And my friend Vic and I are doing a joint-fic (she's an L/J and D/G shipper), it's going to be called _Parallel _and it'll be posted under a new name that I'll provide a link for when we have it all wrapped up.  For now we just write drabbles in this notebook we have and pass it back and forth during schools as relief from educational boredom. ^_^  It's D/G, of course.  Ah yes and I also might co-author a fic with Ariel (Matriaya) though we haven't gotten started on that yet.

A/N* This is my very last author's note for this story!! This was my very first fanfic of course, and so incredibly fun to write!  In case you want to know, the song I always listened to while writing was _Where is the Love _by Black Eyed Peas feat/ Justin Timberlake.  I know its completely irrelevant, the lyrics at least, but the music totally got me in the mood for writing and uh, helped the creative juices flow, so to speak.

Though I started this story just as you know, a hobby, I don't think I would've been able to actually finish it without the wonderful support of many reviewers and friends so. . .a great *virtual* hug to everyone who reviewed, especially (in no particular order)

Lauren, muriel, hpdancer, SAnDie, AraelMoonchild, LunaMoon, Little ButterFly, ALE01, Daisie, cynthetic, Evalahn, FieryAndForbidden, Princess, Mariel, FyreFaerieGinny, Lorraine, Nocheskye, shelleekitten, crazy eyes, shock-a-lot, MrsSpongeBob333, DanielsBfbf, animalcrackers, gill, ali, flurrywurry, kyrissaean, DracosBabe1989, AmSam Malfoy, Princess Sarah *G/D, DreamingofDragons, Kaodorite, rainlvr13, SilvenArrow, SilverFyre31, Mistigris, SexySlytherinChick, FallenAngelOfInnocence, copperstring, silvereyez16, Lost Enchanter, quill-angel68, Minx Raine, Pegasus7, Starryn1ight, Eve Granger, GothicTheatreVampire, Tenshi5, Rockelle, willowslilsecret, Yvette Sparrow, lilikins, Ariel Malfoy, Smiley Face2, Windblader, harypotrfan, Toko Inori, Mezzy-Ezzy-Maxican, Midorie, chiLLz, DolphinDancer, Eleoppy, Princces Punky, and faer (even though you hated the last chapter, you were a faithful reviewer up to that point =D

And of course I must acknowledge **Faith Akiyama**, the girl who got me hooked on the addictive world of D/G fanficcing in the first place with a wonderful angst-fic she showed me during math class (I didn't even read Rowling's Harry Potter books before then, seriously!  I was like, who's Draco?)  Truth be told, I don't know whether to thank her or kill her because now I refuse to talk to D/Hr shippers and I'm constantly reading or writing. . .ah the curses of HP obsession!

And inexpressable thanks to

~ **Bethie**, who was in many ways my Beta and my muse, and always someone to giggle over Draco Malfoy with. (He is so not your lover, btw) ^_^

~ **j-chan (ayumi-dono)**, who left amazing, long (always a good thing) reviews for EVERY chapter without fail—you have no idea how motivational that can be.

~ **Tiffany (LovelyThumper)**, who's one of my favorite authors over on AT.org (go read her stories, seriously), and whose wonderful email inspired me to get off my butt and finish the story.****

~ **Vic Vic J. Potter**, who was faithfully supportive the entire time, who diligently read over my chapters before I posted them all, and above all who I'm totally captaining with next year!  We're gonna blow Stevenson away, Vic!

You guys were incredible, every D/G fanfic author's must-have!

And at last!  What you've suffered through all my ramblings and thanks for ~ the Alternative Ending.  This is how I originally wrote the story to end, but if I left it this way then a sequel would've been _way_ too necessary, and plus, who doesn't like a happy ending? Besides Faith, the queen of angst, that is =D.  So you'll notice that the beginning is a lot the same, and it seems nearly identical at first because this would've replaced chapter 15 (and chapter 16 would've never existed).  You might want to skim the first few paragraphs so not to be repeititive,then.  So read, review, but keep in mind that I'm leaving the story as is so this will forever remain the ALTERNATIVE ending and never the real ending.  Enjoy, luv you all, and hope to see you in my other stories!

Chapter 15.  The Last Dance

          Adrienne recoiled.

          She and Ginny watched with bated breath as the pile of pillows and black robes wriggled, a blond head finally emerging from underneath the fabrics.  "What the hell?" Draco said, popping up and surveying the mess in his room with amused eyes.  "Aren't you supposed to clean my room, not the other way around?"

          Ginny nearly collapsed in laughter, relieved beyond words that it wasn't Narcissa.  "Merlin," she wheezed.  "It's just you."

          Draco feigned hurt, brushing himself off as he whipped the pillows onto his bed.  "What do you mean, it's just me?"

          "I thought it was your mother," Ginny gasped for breath.  "I thought I was done for."

          He duly waited for her to stop laughing, and smirked dangerously when she did just that.  "You've been a bad girl, have you, Miss Weasley?" He said in a low voice that sent shivers all throughout her body.

          Adrienne nearly doubled over and Ginny face looked properly shocked at the implications, but then melted into a impish smile.  "You want to punish me for that, Mr. Malfoy?"

          If it was possible, Draco seemed even more startled that she had.  "Stop, stop," Adrienne interrupted before he could retort.  "You guys are making me sick.  If you want to shag, do it when I'm not around, please."

          "It's not my fault you happen to be here," Draco pointed out with a devilish smile, earning a horrified snort from Ginny.  "Besides, you sure you don't want to watch?"

          "Draco!" Ginny cried, forcing the smile from her lips.

          He rolled his eyes.  "You women," he said.

          "We women," Adrienne cut in, "are going shopping.  Isn't that right, Ginny?"

          Draco's gaze darted between them.  "You're kidding, right?" He said skeptically.

          "Not a bit," Ginny replied.  "Is there a problem?"

          "It's the muggle party," he reminded.

          "We'll be back before it starts," Ginny promised, and Adrienne tugged at her arm.

          "And my room?" Draco gestured to the heaps of linens and pillows.

          "Someone else will clean it," Adrienne assured, pulling at Ginny one last time as they disappeared out the door.

          Draco stared after the girls, befuddled and reprieving himself for allowing them to leave.  He sank into the neat table beside his bed and rubbed his temples gently.  Why hadn't he demanded they stay home? He thought.  And why had he been so publicly flirtatious with Ginny?  There was a small sound, and he opened his eyes to see the very person on his mind standing a bit nervously before him.  "I thought you left."

          She blushed, and he couldn't help thinking how cute she seemed.  "I wanted to say bye properly," she ventured, and timidly bent down to place a chaste kiss upon his lips.  At least that was what she'd intended it to be, but when she drew back, he reached out and clamped slender fingers upon her neck, pulling her down into his lap and encircling her midsection with his free hand as he ravaged the warm wetness of her mouth.  Kissing Draco was never a dull experience for her, and it took minutes before she finally did pull away, knowing very well she was on the brink of losing consciousness.

          "Bye," he murmured, and crushed his mouth to hers once more.

          "Draco," she said breathlessly.  "I'm not going anymore if we keep this up."

          He shrugged.  "And the problem is?" He moved to seek out her lips, and after a blissful moment she reluctantly scrambled off him.

          "I need to go," Ginny whispered.  "I promise I'll be back in time for the party, Draco."

          And for the first time, their parting was not one filled with anger.

~*~

          "This is atrocious," Narcissa exclaimed as she sauntered into the room, heels clicking ostentatiously.

"Well what do you expect," Draco complained, "if you're making me do the decorations."

          She rolled her eyes.  "Come off it, Draco, you're not as inept as you make yourself off to be.  Besides, you let those two servants go anyways."

          "I'm not inept, period," he snapped, choosing to ignore her last remark.

          "Draco, darling, I just want everything to go just as planned, do you hear me?" Narcissa said.

          "Yes, mother," he grumbled, rearranging the display of flowers in their magestic front hall.  Bloody brilliant of the maids to take off shopping on a day like this, he thought darkly, and shot a look at his mother.  "It was your idea to host the muggle ball anyways."

          She looked shocked.  "They'd think badly of us otherwise," she protested.

          "Does it matter what muggles think of us?" A nasty voice interjected, and both mother and son turned in utter shock to see a tall blond man sneering a bit amusedly from the door.  Like Draco, he possessed the same aristocratic features and silver-blond hair, though longer and knotted elegantly at the neck with a dark green ribbon.  And his eyes, those infamous Malfoy eyes, were blazing with a gray anger that could send anyone into fits of convulsion.

          Narcissa dropped the dish between her delicate fingers which promptly shattered at her feet, and gaped.  "Lucius?" She drew in her breath sharply.  "You're home."

          "No shit, Cissa," Lucius replied with mock endearment.  "And quite disappointed in my _family_, I must say.  Whatever possessed you to throw a muggle party?"

          "It's your own damn fault for never owling or apparating," Narcissa said defensively.  "I was just trying to do you a bloody favor and not lose your precious contacts in the muggle world."

          His eyes narrowed.  "I was busy.  You know how important it is to please Vol—uh, our master."

          "Right," she snorted.  "Well, you have the nerve to apparate home just to yell at me for trying to salvage your reputation, Lucius."

          The smirk that chanced his face then reminded Draco fleetingly of himself.  "Dearest," Lucius chuckled, "I'm not here for you.  I actually need a word with Draco."

          She whipped around, surprise and alarm evident in her beautiful face as she surveyed her husband and son with worried glances.  "Yes, Father?" Draco said coolly as Lucius shot Narcissa a pointed look, causing her to retreat.

          Lucius waited until the woman had left before gesturing to his den.  "Like I said before, Draco, you've disappointed me," he cleared his throat.

          "What I have done now?" Draco asked evenly.  

          "You know what you've done," Lucius spat, "fooling around with—with that _Weasley_ whore."

          Draco's eyes flashed briefly, but then he glanced away.  "She's not a whore, Father."

          He laughed, a bitter, contemptuous laugh that too many enemies had encountered before.  "Honestly, boy, sinking the the level of someone like her just for a good fuck?  You must be desparate."

          "We're not—" Draco began, and a satisfied sneer appeared on his father's bloodless lips.

          "First of all," Lucius interrupted, "I _saw_ the two of you all cozy in bed.  Secondly, if you aren't even shagging the girl, then what the hell do you think you're doing?"

          "You saw—what?"

          He rolled his eyes, as if it was the simplest concept and Draco was the daftest of students.  "You've forgotten that Vincent Parkinson has that seeing screen.  You have no idea how humiliated I was last night at his house when the image of you with that Weasley appeared before my associates."

          "You were spying on me?" Draco said incredulously, silenced immediately by a scathing reprieve.

          "It doesn't matter," Lucius bellowed.  "I-I forbid you to have any more contact with her anymore.  When does her damn contract terminate?"

          "Uh, this weekend," Draco muttered, torn between feeling embarassed and jumping in to defend Ginny.

          Lucius stepped closer.  "Good.  Now you listen to me, boy, and you listen well.  If you willing talk to that bastard's daughter so much as once, the consequences will be terrible, understand?"

          His mouth was dry.  "Father I'm not doing anything wrong by—"

          "Have I not taught you anything?" Lucius roared.  "You are a Malfoy, and don't you ever bloody forget that.  If you need someone to relieve your—your sexual desires, go sleep with that Zabini girl.  How dare you shame my name by spending nights with a Weasley?"

          "It's always about your name, isn't it?" Draco said defiantly.

          His father's hand stung as it slapped his cheek.  "She means something to you," Lucius stated, with a hint of question in his tone.

          Draco didn't reply, but it was all the answer Lucius needed.

          "This makes it all the easier then," Lucius said, his voice suddenly soft—a warning signal to Draco.  

          "Easier for what?" He said warily.

          Lucius clucked his tongue.  "You know, I always said not to show your emotion, didn't I?  That you should never care about women, and that if you did, not to let others know.  And you never did listen."

He flinched.  "You're wrong.  I don't care."

"Really," his father remarked, arching an painstakingly identical eyebrow.  "I'll make it easy for you, then."

          Draco's breath hitched in his throat as his father leaned in closer.  "Oh thanks," he said sarcastically, in the calmest possible demeanor he could muster at the moment.

          Lucius ignored him.  "I couldn't harm you, you know.  You're my heir.  But I have connections in high places and well, let's put it this way.  If you don't want anything to happen to that Virginia child. . .you'll stay far, far away."

          "You'd kill her?" Draco said dubiously.

          The grin that spread across his father's face was one of pure menace.  "I think you have the point, my dear son."

          And with a pop, he disapparated.

~*~

          "No, no, no and no!"

          "Come on," Adrienne wheedled.  "You look gorgeous and you know it."

          "I look naked," Ginny shrieked.

          Adrienne rolled her eyes.  "And your point is?"  She received a dark glare, and sighed in resignation.  "Look," she finally said, calmly turning the redhead in the direction of the mirror.  "What do you see?"

          "I see a girl in a piece of cloth who would be mutilated if any of her brothers or parents saw her," Ginny scowled.

          "Wrong," Adrienne beamed.  "You see a blossoming young girl in a beautiful dress that just happens to show off some of her newly acquired assets."

          Ginny frowned at her chest.  "My freckled assets."

          "Point," Adrienne declared.  "It's a beautiful dress.  You know you like it.  And besides, who's going to see you?"

          "Draco," Ginny reminded.

          "Right," Adrienne winked.  "And somehow, I doubt he's going to mind.  You wanted to blow him away, remember?  Which is why you refused to wear that gown he gave you.  Well, this will blow him away, I guarantee."

          Ginny made a gurgling noise at the back of her throat and returned to eyeing the spectacle her reflection was presenting.  She would admit that there was an instant attraction to the gown, with it's sweeping scarlet folds and deep, plunging neckline.  Somehow, dolled up in the dress obviously not made for someone her age she felt wanted, seductive even, and much less like the innocent youngest Weasley everyone made her out to be.

          "It's a change," she admitted.

          "A pleasant change," Adrienne corrected.

          Ginny whimpered.  "I still don't know."

          "Come on," Adrienne urged.

          She bit her lip, imagining the feral look in Draco's glinting silver eyes everytime they snogged, almost feeling the burning touch of his fingers and the way she yearned for him, the way he could stir primitive, carnal feelings deep within her that she never knew possible.  "Okay," she finally said.

          Boy, he better appreciate this.

~*~

          Ginny craned her neck, searching for a glimpse of Draco's silver blond head, but there existed no presence in the room even remotely close to rivlaing his.  She took another small, polite sip of her bubbly champagne and adjusted the uncomfortable corset of her gown as inconspicuously as possible.  The dress had been a horrid idea, as not only was it demandingly suffocating, she felt very much naked under the leering eyes of perverse muggle men.

          She noticed then a dark-haired muggle guest threading his way towards her with an appreciative glint in his blue eyes that Ginny most certainly did not appreciate.  To her apparition, she realized that the distinguished young man was seeking her out for a dance.  

It wasn't that he repulsed her, this particular guest was actually handsome, though in a classic, conventional.  But in no way could he take her mind off of Draco's breathtaking features; instead, she wasted the precious time to scurry away by comparing the two men, wondering how she'd ever had eyes for other males with Draco around.

"Hullo there, beautiful," the man said in what she presumed to be a suave voice, his gaze straying more southward than she would've liked.  Ginny flashed him a tight smile, scanning the room for someone she knew, but failed to find anyone.  "I'm Grant," he continued, either not noticing or ignoring her stiffness.  "I saw you staring at me across the room, so I thought I'd give you a close up view."

He must have seen her looking for Draco, Ginny realized.  "I don't think I was staring at you—" she began.

"It's okay, love," he interrupted, winking and casting another glance at her chest.  "I guess I'm used to it."  She started to sputter in indignition, but then his hand closed down on her arm.  "All that can be cured with a healthy dose of Grant," he said, motioning towards the dance floor.

Ginny wrinkled her nose.  "Um, I don't think so."

The other hand attached itself on the small of her back.  "Very funny," he laughed without mirth, drawing her towards the band.

"I'm serious," she protested.  Instead of answering, he swung her around, tightening his grip as she wriggled in his arms.

"You can't be," he hissed, his touch starting to hurt.  Swaying to the music he moved five lithe fingers down to her rear, and she squirmed uncomfortably, freeing an arm to readjust his.  Grant pressed his elbow sharply against her abdomen, causing a searing flash of white pain to knife through her.  The fleeting panic that overtook her senses lessened this movement, and Ginny briefly considered screaming.  That would, however, more or less ruin the party, and she thought to other ways of ridding herself this creep.

"Mind if I cut in?" A smooth voice interjected, and Ginny nearly collapsed with relief as she saw Draco staring pointedly at where Grant's hand was resting.

He stopped dancing, pulling back and eyeing the tall blond before him, looking impeccable as always but his silver eyes serious.  "Actually, I do," Grant replied darkly.  Draco stepped closer, glancing quickly at Ginny's pleading expression before sneering at the muggle.  Though Grant was a good inch taller, he seemed to suddenly shrink under Draco's steely scrutinizing.  Ginny could feel his fear, and taking advantage of his weakened state, she fled to Draco's side, fitting her palm into his.

"Well, it doesn't seem that she minds," Draco smirked, making Ginny question how the hell he was so bloody calm all the time.  Grant reddened in helpless anger, muttering obsenities as he stalked away.

Ginny watched him for a second, and then flung her arms around Draco, burying her face in his cologne-scented suit, her chest heaving with silent gratefulness.  He staggered back slightly from her unexpected weight, but recovered with ease, his arms enveloping her in comfort.

They stayed like that for a while, and Draco made no motion to step away.  He seemed to understand that she needed to recollect her thoughts, and that for the moment, she needed the security of his arms.  Ginny finally did pull back, her fingers not yet ready to release his sleeves as she admired his elegance.  He was so gorgeous, she thought, taking in the well-fitted black blazer and trousers, the perfect strands slicked back in his usual coif, shorter since he just had it trimmed.

"Enjoying the view?" He said, gray eyes lighter than they had been during the confrontation and glittering with amusement.

"Very much so," she responded softly, letting go with reluctance.  Glancing around her, she watched the blissful couples move in tune with the music.  "It seems everyone but us is dancing," she commented.

He quirked an eyebrow at her attempted subtleness.  "Are you trying to ask me to dance?" He said in a slightly constricted, though overall amused voice.

She blushed.  "I'm not too smooth with words."

From the corner of his eye, he observed her, a red flush crawling into her already rosy cheeks, making her look happy and all the more radiant.  Stop, Draco told himself, hearing Lucius' dark voice echoing in his head.  But one dance wouldn't hurt, would it?  One last dance.   He coughed a bit, and then said silkily, holding out his elbow for her to take, "Dance with me?"

A sweet smile spread across her face.  "I thought you'd never ask," she breathed, and he swept her away.  The music Adrienne had chosen was muggle music, and she very well hadn't heard it before but she didn't particularly care.  Wrapping her arms around him, she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, sinking in to the sensation only he could provide.

          "_You set my soul at ease, chased darkness out of view,"_ the record sang, and Draco trailed his hands across her back, ridding of all space that had previously been between them.

          _"Left your desparate spell on me, say you feel it too I know you do."_

          "You look beautiful," Draco whispered in her ear, surprising even himself.  IT wasn't often that he complimented women.  Ginny curled her fingers around the smooth hair that rested sleek against the nape of his neck.  "Everyone in this room is staring at you."

          _"I wanna love you forever, and this is all I'm asking of you."_

          "They're staring," Ginny murmured, "Because of who I'm dancing with."

          _"Cuz from the moment that I saw your face, and felt the fire of your sweet embrace.  I swear I knew, I wanna love you forever_."

          "Ginny," Draco said quietly, and she sighed in his arm, thinking she would never stop cherishing the sound of her name from his lips.

_          "What my heart tells me to do and I'd give up all I have just to be with you."_

"Mmm?"

          _"Now I only want to be right where you are."_

          "Ginny, this is never going to work," Draco's voice sounded pained.

          She felt like she was floating, and his words didn't quite register in her mind.  "What is?"

          _"Because when I'm with you there's nowhere else that I would ever wanna be, no, I'm breathing for the next second I can feel you loving me."_

          "You, me, us."

          _"I'm gonna love you forever."_

The music stopped, and so did the moment.  Ginny stared up at him, her brown eyes surprised and confused.  The noise around them seemed to suddenly vanish, and her mouth fell open in disbelief.  His words rang in her ears, but she just couldn't bring herself to accept them.  "Draco?"

He sighed heavily.  "Ginny, this won't, this won't work and you know it.  You and I, we're two different people, we come from two different worlds and that is never going to change."

"So you're just going to give up, just like that?" She cried.  "You're not even going to make a try at it, it's not even worth it?  I'm not even worth it?"

His eyes hardened.  "Look, Ginny," he said, trying to sound cold but failing miserably.  "I'm not going to lie and tell you that these past few weeks have meant nothing to me."  He took a deep breath.  Gods, he was terrible at expressing emotion.  "But you know that nothing could ever come of this, think about it."

"Why?" She demanded, no longer succeeding at remaining careless.  "Am I not good enough for you?  I'm not enough like Blaise?  Is that it?"

He stroked her cheek, feeling the wetness of her tears.  "I don't want Blaise," he replied quietly.  "I never have."

"Then what, Draco?  What do you want?  Because it's obviously not me."  People began to stare curiously at her, but only Draco, if blurred, was in her line of vision.  It was such a helpless feeling that he aroused within her, after spending so much time around him she couldn't even imagine feeling somebody else's lips upon hers.

"I want things to be the way they used to be," he replied tonelessly.  "Before you came here, before I—"  He stopped, realizing abruptly that he was about to say before he fell for her, and stepped back even further.  She gaze up at him with watery brown eyes, her soft lips, those lips he'd kissed so fervently before, parted in anguish and shock.  Had he truly fallen for a Weasley?  He, a Malfoy, who never let himself fall for anyone of the opposite sex, had not only broken his principles, he'd done so for his family's worst enemy.

"Draco," she whispered disbelievingly.

"Look, Ginny," he said in a tired voice.  "Look at this, look at us now.  We're always arguing, it never ceases."

"We weren't arguing a few minutes ago," she pointed out.

"We weren't talking either," he replied.  "Whenever we talk, we argue.  Isn't that true?"

A wistful smile graced her lips, and she stood up on her tip toes to brush them against his.  "Then we don't talk," she murmured.  "I'm fine with that."

_If you don't want anything to happen to that Virginia child. . ._He moved away.  "Ginny," he said.  

"Draco," her voice took on a pleading tone now.  "We can make it work, I know we can, because—"  

"Because what?" He forced himself to sound harsh.

She stared at him wondorously, reaching out for his robe and trying desparately not to cry.  "Because even though you're a giant prat, I love you Draco Malfoy."

His head whipped up, and he shoved her away like she'd brandished a gun.  "You don't know what love is," he snarled.

          Now the tears spilled out.   "Maybe I don't know what love truly is," she admitted softly.  "But I do know that when I'm with you, it doesn't matter.  If this isn't love, then I don't need it.  All I need is you.  Please, Draco, we can make this work.  I'm not saying it's going to be easy, because it's not, but we can at least try.  You said it yourself, you had feelings for me."

          He blinked at her, not sure what to say.  Nobody in his entire life had said those three words to him, and now that they had come spewing from her mouth he wasn't sure whether he should kiss her or flee.  _The consequences will be terrible. . ._"I lied," he forced himself to spit out.

          The warmth seemed to drain from her glowing amber eyes.  "You don't mean that."

          "I do," he sneered, and his heart wrenched at her stricken expression.

          "Then—then why did you kiss me?" Ginny asked brokenly.  "And hold me, and ask me to stay with you?"

          There was a bitter taste upon his lips.  He wanted to reach out and tell her he was sorry, he wanted to take back everything he'd ever said to hurt her but all he could see was his damned father.  "You were—you were convenient."

          And then something in her face clicked, she realized he wasn't toying with her anymore, that their friendly banters had come to an end.  "I don't mean anything to you?" Her voice cracked.  "Not anything at all?"

          "If I tell you yes, will you go away?"  Part of him prayed she would fight him, and another hoped she would relent.

          "That ring," Ginny said suddenly, anger seeping into her hurt-filled voice.  "Did you even bloody know what that was?  That was the goddamn 'Le Feu du Soleil' created by the bloody Sun King for his lover.  Tell me, Malfoy, where is it now, in the bottom of your sock drawer along with jewelry from every other woman you've played?"

          He swallowed.  "Yes."

She heaved a sigh.  "You know, Draco Malfoy, I thought you had changed," she finally said, opening her eyes and glaring at him accusingly.  "I thought that this wonderful person I spent the last few weeks with, this person who could make me feel things I never thought possible, was no longer the shallow, vengeful Slytherin I knew back at Hogwarts.  But once again, I was wrong."

A lump formed in his throat.  "I just don't get it," Ginny continued, neither beseeching him nor reprimanding him.  "I don't get you, how you're hot one minute, and cold the next, how you can't make up your damn mind, ever.  And you're right.  It's never going to work, but only because you won't let it work."  Her tone was so quiet, so gentle, and so helpless Draco felt a pang of guilt, for perhaps the first time in his life.

She knew she was making a scene, but couldn't bring herself to care, and she couldn't bring herself to tear her eyes away from the expressionless blond standing before her.  "I know," Draco uttered.

"My contract ends tomorrow," Ginny went on placidly, so much that it scared even her.  "And I'll leave then.  You can have your bloody dress back, and you can keep the damn ring too.  I don't want anything that reminds me of you, Draco Malfoy, and I don't ever want to see you again."

And before he could move, she'd fled from the room.

Draco sighed, reached into his shirt where he pulled out a glittering ruby ring on a silver chain, and rubbed his fingers around it.  "Someday, Ginny, I promise," he murmured.  "Someday."

~ End


End file.
